Tumblr Prompts
by Blitzindite
Summary: Short YouTube Ego prompts/requests from Tumblr. Consists mostly of AUs (Outside, Mirror, Monster, Apocalypse, Superhero), but there's some canon stuff here, as well.
1. Complete, Dark

**storm337 asked:  
**_Complete with...Dark?  
_(Not an AU)

* * *

All he ever offered was a brief glance. A fleeting look. To make sure not a strand of hair was out of place, or his collar was folded properly, or shoulders unwrinkled. It was never longer than a few moments. The mirror wouldn't get any more time than that to meet his gaze. The withering thing trapped within wouldn't get the satisfaction of meeting the eyes of what was once it's own body.

Dark would pull at his lapels, crack his neck; watch from the corner of his eye as the broken thing visible only in the cracks flinched away. He had never needed them, only their body. But he could see their longing to be free, to have a body of their own once more, in the way their hands ghosted the cracks in the old glass. In the way weak fists pounded silently on the other side.

With their body; with the combined souls of Damien and Celine and the Manor, Dark was complete.

The District Attorney…well. Not so much.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	2. Welcome, Schneep & Marvin

**olivesandcreeks asked:  
**_welcome with schneep and marvin from the outside! :D  
_(Outside AU, not canon to series)

* * *

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, it took everything in the doctor to not lunge into Marvin's arms for fear of hurting them both. He gladly sank into the magician's embrace as soon as Marvin's arms had snaked around his neck by their own accord, however. Both men hitting their knees, the eldest one's cape wrapped tightly around them as if it would keep Schneep from disappearing again.

"Welcome back," Marv murmured softly.

All Schneep could offer in response was a choked sob into the other Septic's shoulder.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	3. Forgive, Schneep & Edward

**olivesandcreeks asked:  
**_**forgive with schneep and Dr iplier?** or... umm.. smile with dark and host (or both lol) (I'm full of ideas)  
_(Outside AU, not canon to series)

* * *

The two hadn't spoken much since the Septic's return. There were side-eyed glances, or gaping mouths when words that wanted so badly to be spoken fled before they could even be processed. The others could see that they wanted to talk. Needed to talk. They just…didn't know where to start.

Edward was the one to finally, finally, act first. A hand on Schneep's shoulder to stop him in his tracks. His brows raised with expectancy and concern both.

Schneep's own gaze seemed sad, in a way. Like he feared what his old friend might say.

"The past is behind us now," the Iplier started, "I forgave you a long time ago. All I ask is do you forgive me?"

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	4. Sew, Anti

**anonymous asked:  
**_sew w anti  
Warnings: Blood, Needles  
_(Not an AU)

* * *

He had long since lost track of the thread's original color as crimson dribbled down its length. Had it always been red? Or maybe white? Green? Little did it matter.

The needle glinted with the same substance as it pulled: In and out. In and out. Over and over and over again and again through his puppet's limp wrist. In a way it made holding the needle just that much harder as it tried to slip from his fingers. In another, it made the object far too pretty to look away from; helped him remain focused on the task at…hand.

Lips pulling into a smile that seemed so fake, with fangs poking out and making what was usually reserved for happiness seem so messed up, the glitch continued.

Soon. Soon, his newest puppet would be strung up like the rest of them; his strings sewed into their limbs, into a permanent smile on their face, holding their eyes shut forever and always. Soon, they would await his command, and his alone. Hear only his words, see only what he wanted them to see.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	5. Smile, Dark & Host

**olivesandcreeks asked:  
**_forgive with schneep and Dr iplier? or... umm.. **smile with dark and host** (or both lol) (I'm full of ideas)  
_(Outside AU, canon to series (behind-the-scenes))

* * *

For once, it was a warmer day. That was fortunate. They were all so sick of the cold by that point, it was nice that the sun was actually doing its job for once. Sure, it made the snow sticky and wet, made it weight down their boots and soak their pantlegs, but it was warm.

The Hosts face was tilted up slightly. His hood hid his eyes from view of the humans who may have passed by the bench the pair had opted to seat themselves at, but it left enough of his face uncovered that he could tip his head up to the sky and let the warmth soak into chilled cheeks.

Dark hunched his own shoulders, letting the rays hit his coat and warm his too-cold frame. It felt…nice, to relax for once as they ran errands.

When he turned to face his companion, the Host had a soft smile on his lips; a content smile. It made him look so much younger.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	6. Collapse, Host

**storm337 asked:  
**_Collapse with Outside Host  
Warnings: Blood, Fainting  
_(Outside AU, not canon to series)

* * *

Aching. It was all he could feel was that damn aching deep in his empty eye sockets. He pressed his palms to his bandages and let out a shuddering breath. He couldn't tell if the pressure was helping or just making them hurt more. The bandages had already soaked through; the blood staining his hands, the sleeve of his coat.

Even with the hotel so warm, the cold had already taken its toll over the months.

The Host curled his fingers into the covered sockets as he took another stumbling step. He couldn't See. It hurt too much to focus enough to See.

He was in their room, right? In the hotel room. Or…the connected bathroom? His hand came down on the edge of the sink. Bathroom. Doc had just gone down to the lobby to get ice. He wouldn't be long…

The Host grit his teeth and backed into the door frame, hands putting as much pressure over his eye sockets as they dared. Something was… It hurt too much…

When his knees finally buckled, the old Ego had no free hand to keep himself from cracking his head on the edge of the sink.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	7. Shout, Jameson & Bim

**anonymous asked:  
**_shout + jj  
_(Mirror (reversed) AU)  
_(not happy with this one, but it was the first thing I'd written for my Mirror AU)_

* * *

Hands folded loosely in front of him, Jameson's eyes trailed through the quiet room. Their creator lay as still and quiet as he'd been for months. No surprise there, though the young Ego couldn't look to the medical bed for long before his gaze swept to the opposite side of the room.

Where was…

Ah, there he was. Sleeping. Of course.

Dress shoes clicking as he cut across the dimly lit room, he brought himself to kneel in front of Bim. The Iplier had the audacity to prop himself up on the stairs and pretend to look busy, when Jameson could clearly see he was sleeping.

"Mr. Trimmer!"

He ignored the mechanical clatter as Mark and Google jumped and knocked things off their desk, and the cursing from those gathered around the makeshift table at the center of the room, and even the way his own voice made its booming echo that could likely be heard throughout the building. Ignored the startled, deer-in-the-headlights expression to light Bim's face as he jolted awake.

"You're on duty! Act the part"

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	8. Water, Wilford & Edward

**anonymous asked:  
**_water and Wilford + anyone else you want in the outside  
Warnings: Swearing  
_(Outside AU, behind-the-scenes)

* * *

"Agh–Wilford you fucking–!"

The startled yelp to tear from Dr. Iplier's throat was…far from dignified. How Wilford had snuck a snowball all the way to their room Doc did not want to know. What he did want was for the snow, now melting against his back and soaking his poor shirt, to come out!

No matter how much he shook out his shirt, it wouldn't come. The snow stuck too stubbornly, while what melted soaked into the fabric.

He knew he looked ridiculous dancing about at the foot of the bed. He could hear Wilford's howling laughter, could feel how dizzy he was making himself.

So that's how it would be… Goddammit.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	9. Scream, Mark & Bing

**anonymous asked:  
**_scream + Mark and bing  
Warnings: Swearing  
_(Outside AU, behind-the-scenes)

* * *

What had brought on the argument, Mark didn't even know anymore. All he did know was that Bing was whirring and chirping in ways that Mark couldn't understand; jabbing a finger into the man's chest.

The android's eyes were too bright, his teeth bared too far. It made him look more like a feral animal than an advanced android.

"Bing–"

"Shut up!" The android's voice crackled as he fought for the shift back to the English; popping, screeching. The man was convinced Bing would have screamed if his voice wasn't glitching with its shift from the androids' language to his own.

Mark couldn't help but feel a pang of fear when Bing's fists gripped his shirt far too tightly. He could hear a seam breaking loose in Bing's grip. "Y'know it's your fucking fault were out here, right?! Your fault so many of us almost died back home! You abandoned us! Both of you! You've got helluva lot of makin' up to do, y'know that? Fuck you, man. Fuck. You."

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	10. Dazzle, Bim

**constantly-cloud asked:  
**_Dazzle + Bim Trimmer  
_(Not an AU)

* * *

He was smiling a smile of pearly whites, the corners of his eyes creasing behind his glasses. His suit freshly pressed with not a wrinkle; his shoes clicking happily as he paced the stage and hands waving about in grand gestures.

He felt right at home on the stage. He felt right at home welcoming his contestants to the eager crowd; right at home giving them challenges that could end in their winning, or… Well, Bim liked to keep his viewers on edge. They never knew what to expect from the next show.

The gameshow host was grinning wide and standing tall; his aura glowing brightly above his head like a spotlight. The yellow-white light of the aura was dazzling, almost blinding, to anyone to look directly into it. It warmed Bim's suit and reflected off his glasses and bright eyes.

"I'm Bim Trimmer, and welcome back to Hire My Ass!"

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	11. Create, Dark

**anonymous asked:  
**_create w/ dark  
_(Monster AU, canon to series)

* * *

It was so easy to pass as someone who wasn't truly you when you practiced for so long. To create someone who didn't exist to be the face of the radio station; to create his "sister" to offer the funding to said station. It was easy to steal someone's face as they lay dying in the basement. It was easy to steal their voice when all they did was cry to be freed, to act as a party interested in the station. The more publicity it got, the better after all.

The entity's dark eyes locked with their mirrored counterparts. Their pupils reflected much like an animal in the headlights of a car, and Dark tilted their head. "Damien" had a meeting today. "Celine" was expected to be at his side. Dark's trickster friend would create the illusion of one of the siblings to walk at Dark's side, while they took the form of the other.

Child's play. That's all it was anymore. A game of cat-and-mouse with the Hunters who knew something was up with the "siblings." All false smiles and soft words of encouragement and far too much confidence.

"If you create a story," they murmured as their form shifted, "you dare not forget the details~" Cracking as their very skeleton stretched and compressed, tears running down pale cheeks as their eyes shifted, and a growl rumbling deep in their chest. The shed skin would be buried, as it always was, and Dark would be sure to clean up a little before choosing an outfit. The blood left behind after shedding was…far from ideal for a meeting.

Staring back at him through the mirror was Damien Fischbach; the face of Howling Moon Radio. A suit it would be today.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	12. Translate, Marvin

**anonymous asked:  
**_translate Marvin  
_(Not an AU)

* * *

Marvin's hands were tracing the words as he read. His fingertips ghosting over the dark letters as his brows scrunched. Each letter spun and swirled in unfamiliar ways; his eyes skipping as they tried and failed to figure it out.

He was reading it, yes, but he couldn't understand it. The words were strange, alien in a way. They were legible, but his mind was uncomprehending.

It was as if the book were written in another language, but with letters that were vaguely familiar. Like twisted versions of the letters of a language he knew so well. Latin, it reminded him of. The occasional word jumped out at him, but his mind otherwise refused to translate the tome.

Mouthing the words that made no sense, the magician shook his head.

It was as if the book didn't want to be read.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	13. Face, Marvin & Chase

**anonymous asked:  
**_face Marvin + whoever  
_(Monster AU, canon to series)

* * *

Marvin frowned as he leaned in close to the mirror. His brows scrunched as he traced the deepening wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Humans aged far too quickly, he mused bitterly. He had to wonder how many years he had left before Chase and Central would be left alone. At least they'd have each other.

The sorcerer glanced over his shoulder as he felt Chase come to his side before the apparition even made itself visible. A part of him envied how ageless Chase was now. He still looked so young and healthy, while the human withered away.

"Why do you still hide your face? No one in town'll recognize you anymore," the spirit of his old friend asked. Chase's head tilted curiously; it was incredible how alive he still seemed.

Marvin didn't give an answer as he pulled the weathered mask back down over his face. What answer could he give? Chase didn't understand aging. Not anymore. He looked right past Marvin's wrinkles and grayed hair as if he couldn't see them.

But the human could certainly see them. He didn't want to.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	14. Transfer, Dark

**anonymous asked:  
**_If you are still doing the prompts: transfer with Dark  
_(Mirror AU, canon to series)

* * *

Everything felt heavy. He couldn't say sore; no, there was more of a…tingling numbness, everywhere. Dark grit his teeth, tried to swallow. His throat was dry. Prying his eyes open, they snapped shut again just as quickly against the over-bright light above him. It left spots behind his eyelids.

He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt as though made of lead. Dark could hear someone speaking nearby in a heavy accent. Something about how hard it had been to transfer him there with his aura lashing out. What had..?

His fingers twitched at a slight tug against something attached to his hand. The accented voice was speaking again. They were talking to someone as they injected something cold into his hand before reattaching the IV. The name was on the tip of his tongue, but Dark's thoughts were too fuzzy to process it correctly.

"The car did a lot of damage," the voice said; it sounded farther away now, "and it will take time, but I assure he will recover."

…A car? Dark had been hit by a car?

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	15. Quizzical, Host & Chase

**anonymous asked:  
**_quizzical for chase and host  
_(Not an AU, probably when Chase was still a new Ego)

* * *

Chase had come over to the Ipliers' place to hang out with Bing and Oliver. It really wasn't that unusual a thing. The only problem was that this time, Bing had managed to injure himself falling off the porch. Landed on his arm wrong and broke it, or something of the sort. Host had only caught bits and pieces, and it was such a common occurrence that he didn't care to See it anymore.

The Host could hear the Septic at the other end of the couch; occasionally playing a too-loud game on his phone, or texting so the keyboard constantly buzzed, or sighing in boredom as he sprawled to take up too much room. It would be a good hour or two before Bing's arm was repaired, and the Host was currently locked out of his room. According to Incorporated, he had been cooped up in there for far too long, so it had locked him out as soon as he left to get coffee.

Shifting to a more comfortable position, the Host started writing as he murmured softly to himself.

The short peace expectantly didn't last long.

"Dude! How do you do that? Aren't you like. Blind?"

The Host grimaced at the volume the Septic chose to use. He lifted his pen as the cushion next to him shifted–even if his Vision was telling him otherwise, Chase seemed close to falling right off the couch. He could See the younger Ego tilting his head quizzically as he tried to read the writing on the page. Host, for his part, simply closed the book and folded his hands over top of it. He sighed softly and stopped his narrations, turning to face the other.

"Under conventional terms, the Host is blind due to his lack of eyes, yes. His Vision, however, means that he technically is not."

"…Uh."

A breath that wasn't quite a sigh, but close. This could take a while.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	16. Goldfish, Jameson

**constantly-cloud asked:  
**_Goldfish, Jameson?  
_(Not an AU)

* * *

Jameson was grinning wide as his fingers pressed to the glass. It was a pet Chase had gotten his kids that they had lost interest in and offered to the youngest Septic. Sure, Chase hadn't exactly been pleased with their carelessness, but Jameson loved the little guy! His bug-eyes were rather amusing, and his bits of white against shiny orange were certainly a pretty combination!

He really didn't know what to call the little guy, though. He couldn't pick something generic; it just simply wouldn't do!

"Well. I think you look like a Charlie!"

Jameson grimaced when his speech-slide startled the fish into its little home. Oops.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	17. Sedate, Host

**storm337 asked:  
**_I find stepping away is the best course of action! Hope you find that inspiration soon pal. Sedate, Host?  
Warnings: Needles, Blood, Drugging, Kidnapping (hinted?)  
_(Not an AU)

* * *

It was a clear day that smelled of newly-budded flowers. Birds singing in the trees, wind whispering through the leaves; the sun warm on the Host's shoulders. In the distance, Egos Incorporated stood watch over the city at the top of its little hill. Sometimes when the Host took walks, he could feel the building watching him like the mother hen it was.

The old Ego reveled in the heat of the day; his coat draped over one arm and head tilted ever-slightly up to the sky. It never got overly cold in Incorporated's territory, but it was also rare to get as hot as it was that day. It was a shame Dr. Iplier was busy for the day; the Host would have enjoyed taking the walk with his old friend.

He spoke soft narrations to himself as he cut a familiar path through the city. He never strayed far from their home when he was on his own lest someone need him, but it was still nice to get away from the noise of the office for a while.

Eyebrows arching as the words flowed, as he Saw too late, they were stopped with a hiss through clenched teeth. Had he the eyes, they would have widened, then narrowed, as he spun away from the sharp pain in his neck; he could feel the needle break and stick in his flesh, and he pulled up a hand to brush it away. He could hear it fall to the sidewalk; could feel the trickle of blood running down his neck. He could hear himself; his steps, his breaths, the swish of his coat as he threw it aside after retrieving the bat from its folds.

He couldn't hear the other; had they moved? He opened his mouth…

His tongue fumbled the words. It felt…heavy. Twisted. Uncooperative. The narration was there, waiting to give him his Sight, but holding back. Even so close, it didn't want to come. He swallowed; tried to lift the bat. The hollow aluminum felt like it had been filled with lead, and it rang far too loudly as it slipped from his fingers and hit the ground. Were his legs shaking? It was…hard to stay upright.

The Host took an unsteady step back as he released his aura; the ink dripping and tendrils moving just as sluggishly as his tongue.

He could hear the other stepping back, but they were calm. Even the Host's aura was tired and of little help to his situation and faded back out almost as soon as it had appeared.

His attacker didn't step forward again until long after the Host's knees had buckled and head lolled lazily to the side when he was claimed by unconsciousness.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	18. Bat, Chase

**constantly-cloud asked:  
**_Bat Chase Apocalypse  
Warnings: Swearing  
_(Apocalypse AU, canon to universe)

* * *

Chase grumbled to himself as he swung his head from side-to-side. He really shouldn't complain about the mask actually making it possible for him to breathe, but the giant filters on the sides were so damn obtrusive. His reader was telling him the air was safe and he didn't have to wear it, but despite how annoying the thing was, he really didn't want to risk it.

The man knelt down to start digging through the dresser he'd stumbled across. The old farmhouse looked like it had been abandoned for years–even before all this shit went down–yet was still intact. Had no other survivors discovered it? Seriously? No complaints there!

"Any luck?" he asked into his walkie.

He could hear one of the others tripping over something on their end before Jackie answered with, "Tools in the garage! Hen'll like these."

"Canned food!" Marvin cheered from his own place in the basement. "Oh shit–and vegetable seeds, no way!"

Seeds? That meant they could have fresh food! Chase grinned behind his mask as he pulled clothes out of the dresser to stuff in his pack. "Got clothes here." There weren't many and they were either too big for anyone but Henrik, or too small for anyone but Jameson, but clothes were clothes and Chase took what he could.

"Anyone check the attic yet? I'll get kitchen," Marvin said, his footsteps audible as he came up the basement's creaky stairs.

"I'll check."

It took opening and closing a few doors before Chase found the one that hid the attic stairs. He shined his flashlight up and tested the first step, then made his way up. The ceiling hung low enough he had to duck his head so he wouldn't crack his forehead against one of the beams. Under his gas mask, his face lit up at the sight of a few boxes and an antique chest. Maybe there were some things they could use in them!

"I've got boxes up here," he said, "and a–shit!" The man yelped and ducked close to the floor when something passed his head. What had..? He shined his flashlight around, ignoring his companions' questions for the moment. "Somethin' just–that…that's a fucking bat!"

"Wait–alive?"

"Well, seeing as it just about hit me in the face, I'd say yes, Marv!" Chase ducked again, swinging a hand to try and keep it away from his face and flew back the other way.

"That's awesome!" Jackie added, "It's been like a year since I've seen a live animal!"

"Not so awesome when it's divebombing your fucking head!"

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	19. Support, Jameson & Chase

**scribblesandstrations asked:  
**_Hey buddy, doing those 'one word prompts' for the egos? :O Could you probably do 'support' with Jameson Jackson and another ego of your choosing? Mute old timey boi deserves some lovin'.  
_(Apocalypse AU, canon to universe)

* * *

Jameson's eyes followed the doctor as he rushed about the lab; back-and-forth between checking and double-checking Seán's vitals, and making sure the cut Chase had given himself falling down a ravine wouldn't get infected. Chase met the younger man's gaze and offered a smile before wincing at the alcohol Henrik swiped across his wound. Jameson could hear the German muttering something about giving Jackie a damn heart attack when Chase had fallen.

When Chase hopped out of the chair and made a beeline for Jameson, the younger man gave him a pointed, "be careful next time" sort of look that only made Chase laugh.

"Wasn't my fault, James."

Arching a brow in response, he had to suppress a grin at the way the other man's hands came up in surrender.

"Okay, okay! I'll watch my footing better next time."

Chase sat down next to him and leaned back against the wall. There really wasn't much for comfortable seating in the lab. They'd have to see about finding some pillows and deep-cleaning them in the decontamination rooms, Jameson thought.

The younger man grinned and shook his head, then leaned into Chase's shoulder. The group was always so busy. It was nice to just…relax, for once. Honestly, he was so tired. The days were too long and nights too short, it seamed.

He felt Chase wrap an arm around his shoulder when his head started to droop; fingers combing through fluffy brown hair in a way that made Jameson sigh contentedly. Chase didn't seem to mind supporting the other when he drifted off into a light sleep.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	20. Steam, Jackieboy

**anonymous asked:  
**_Steam Apocalypse AU Jackie  
_(Apocalypse AU, canon to universe)

* * *

Jackie hated when it got like this. It was too hot. Far too hot. The heavy suit he wore trapped the heat; the tape keeping the sleeves and legs closed around gloves and boots might as well have been melting. Why had he agreed to check out this area? His reader was going haywire with how poisonous the air was, and Jackie could only be grateful for the oxygen tank strapped to his back and connected to his mask. Even so, that was just added weight.

He was sweating under everything, and to top it all off, the goggles on his mask were fogging up with steam. The condensation was dripping down the insides of the goggles and making it near-impossible for Jackie to see. It was a miracle he hadn't tripped and fallen flat on his face, yet.

Jackie grumbled, and couldn't help but curse into his walkie when Chase laughed at him.

This was going to be a miserable day…

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	21. Constrain, Host

**storm337 asked:  
**_Constrain, Host  
Warnings: Eye Gore, Self Mutilation, Major Character Injury  
_(Mirror AU, canon to universe)

* * *

His head ached and throat felt raw. Bandages wrapped almost too tightly around his head; squeezing, making the ache worse. He tried to sit up, but a hand on his shoulder forced him back down.

"Easy." Wilford? Or maybe Google? He…couldn't tell with his mind so fuzzy.

The King. He remembered the King catching him. …Catching him what? Rewriting a victim's future, that's what it was. Changing the man's fate. Saving him. The King had been furious, as it wasn't the first time, but hadn't lifted a finger; yet he'd felt constrained the lift the pen off his desk as the older Ego stared him down. His mind had screamed not to, but limbs hadn't obeyed.

A twitch passed through him and eyes throbbed when he remembered driving the pen into his own eye. Twice, he'd done it. One time for each eye, completely against his will; he didn't remember anything more.

The bandages pressing painfully against his eye sockets were enough to tell him his eyes probably hadn't been saved.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	22. Ghost, Jameson & Anti

**scribblesandstrations asked:  
**_Okay okay inspired by a certain video, 'ghost' with JJ and Anti! I love the sweet boy but I'm very curious as to what you can do with this prompt. Mayyyybbbeeee... apocalypse AU?  
_(Apocalypse AU, canon to universe)

* * *

Jameson knelt at the stream just a measly two miles from the lab, carefully scooping water into a container and sealing the lid tightly. They were running short on the stuff, so he'd volunteered to go out with Marvin to scavenge this time around. The older man had stopped about half a mile back to check a dead survivor's backpack. The woman's mask had looked like it got a leak, so the air had probably killed her in no time.

The younger man had gladly let Marvin do it. He still had a hard time bringing himself to fight other survivors, let alone touch their dead bodies.

Sighing through his nose, he glanced up to the sound of footsteps. That couldn't be Marvin already, surely? Jameson's brows furrowed behind his mask when he found no one. A trick of the wind, perhaps.

Shouldering his pack, he hopped back to his feet to continue on. There was a city two more miles from there. It was a common place for scavengers, but it was so large that there always seemed to be more to find regardless of how many buildings were picked clean.

Glancing over his shoulder with a glare, Jameson could have sworn he heard steps again. He pulled his walkie from where it was clipped to his pants and started hitting the button on the side; going over each sound in his head to make sure he didn't need to correct the Morse. "Are you near me?"

"Huh?" Marvin sounded confused from his end. "No? Why?"

"I keep hearing footsteps."

"Jamie! Why didn't you say something? Get the hell back here!"

He jumped when a sound seemed to come from right behind him. The hair on the back of his neck raised when he turned to see nothing there. Who–or what–ever it was reminded him of a ghost: There and then gone just quickly as it had approached. It scared him. Just…get back to Marvin. He was just hearing things, surely.

Jameson spun on his heel to start the jog back in Marvin's direction, but gasped when he found a knife under his throat. He swallowed and brought his hands up placatingly; he'd only heard the others describe this man. He was dangerous; a thief more than willing to kill them for their supplies.

They didn't know his real name; only that he called himself Anti.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	23. Mindless, Marvin

**olivesandcreeks asked:  
**_mindless with marvin  
_(Mirror AU, canon to universe)

* * *

The magician raised his eyes to the cards dancing in front of him. They acted as screens; showing him each of the other Septics. His lip curled in a sneer as he watched them. Chase, with his plans always failing. Henrik, with his stupid rivalry with the other doctor. Jackieboy, who couldn't even be a villain right. Jacques, trying so hard to pick up the slack and act as a doctor for those around him when he knew nothign about being a doctor. Anti, trying so hard to protect their creator. Jameson, Chase's "puppet." Marvin scoffed. Chase had to be blind if he thought Jackson's loyalty ran true. Chase had to be blind if he couldn't see when Jameson went running for Anti and their creator.

Sly little spy, he was.

Marvin's aura swirled about him and his cards. Spinning them so they continued to face him even as he circled them.

They were amusing to watch, at least; playing their mindless games of cat and mouse. Marvin didn't care to interfere with their games; he preferred to just sit back and watch their failures.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	24. Pushover, Yandereplier & Squirrel King

**scribblesandstrations asked:  
** _Mirrors!AU, was it? Yandereplier and King, **'pushover'** or... 'defiant'? :'D Im sorry but its kinda fun challenging you and mirror!AU is fun to explore  
_(Mirror AU, canon to universe)

* * *

The King was like a predator; circling, eye fixed on his "prey." Sizing the far younger Ego up. His cape made him look too big; the furs lining the inside hugging his shoulders and falling around his feet to make him look more like a beast than a man.

Yan had never meant to come back here. He wanted to get back to Google. Wilford. Dark. Host. Anyone but the King. He swallowed and flinched away when the older Ego brushed his red fringe from his eyes. He could feel the knot twisting his chest the moment he locked eyes with the King, and dropped his gaze to his feet immediately.

"Such a pushover, little one." How could he sound so kind while a sneer twisted his lip?

Yan's blood ran cold when the King grabbed a handful of his hair and forced him to look up. Forced him to meet cold, dark eyes.

"You're not welcome here," he growled. "So what brings you to my city? My kingdom?"

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	25. Origin, Jackieboy & Schneep

**scribblesandstrations asked:  
**_Hi is me again :O "Origin", mirror!AU Jackieboy and Henrik?  
Warnings: Torture  
_(Mirror AU, canon to universe)

* * *

Bright blue eyes scanned over the prone form on the table. Jackieboy's breathing was uneven; teeth bared and eyes squeezed shut in a pained grimace as his arms flexed against the restraints.

There were so many wires and IVs hooked into the older Ego's body that even Henrik had a hard time keeping track of them all–and he was the one who'd connected them all. Blood splattered Jackieboy's bare chest; bruises around his throat and arms from Chase and Bing restraining him. The damn robot had nearly killed Jackieboy. Didn't he know his own strength?

Henrik hummed and turned toward one of his machines. Seán was a fool for trying to create a hero. It was only a matter of time before they'd found a way to sway him to their side.

Huffing a laugh, Henrik shook his head. "Sway" him. Like Jackieboy had much of a choice in the matter.

Bing had given him instructions to run the machines, and he switched the next one on. His eyes flicked to the other when Jackieboy's back arched, a scream tearing from his throat as electricity coursed through him. At least, Henrik thought as his eyes scanned the older Ego's stiff form before he cut the current, this kept him busy. It wasn't his normal job, but it kept his hands moving.

Jackieboy was shaking, muscles twitching, as Henrik moved on to the next machine. He didn't know what any of them actually did, really. They were Bing's creations; if they ended up killing Jackieboy, it was the android's fault.

With the next series of switches, Jackieboy's body relaxed back into the table even while his expression didn't. Henrik approached; brushed the older Ego's hair out of his eyes even as Jackieboy whimpered and flinched away.

"Now, now, Jackieboy. Have you heard the phrase 'You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain'?" He patted Jackieboy's cheek with false affection. "We get to see which is for you."

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	26. That wasn't there before, Anti

**HCAnon asked:  
**_Hey, it's me, HCAnon from your Ask The Outside blog! I have two requests for the horror prompts, **one for mirror au, 137, with Anti,** and one for the monster au, 104, with anyone. Thanks!  
Warnings: Blood, Knife, Soft Anti  
_**137: "That wasn't there before."**_  
_(Mirror AU, canon to universe)

* * *

Eyes straining as he watched the bright monitor, Anti had to restrain himself from rubbing at his eyes. His fingers were covered in ink from scribbling down editing notes; he really didn't want to get that in his eyes. He yawned; rested his chin in his palm. He was going to get scolded for having the lights off and monitor at full brightness, he knew he would, but whatever.

The Ego reached for his phone when it buzzed. Just an update alert. He slid it back over to focus back on the screen. His wrist was bugging him, his eyes, his back. He should really sit up straighter and maybe step away for a bit.

Anti's eyelids drooped to the monotonous clicking of the mouse. Almost finished, he thought as he shook himself. Stay awake. How late was it, anyway?

He grimaced when he checked the clock in the corner of the screen. Two in the morning. Sleep is for the weak, as his creator would say. But man was he tired… He slumped back in the chair and pushed himself away from the desk; spinning it to face the whiteboard. The poorly-erased numbers were barely visible in the light from the monitor. Jack had hit another follower milestone recently.

Anti grinned at it before spinning back to the computer. He reached for the mouse again, but stopped himself. His head tilted slightly; brows furrowed. Jack didn't own a cap like that, did he? Either way, he could have sworn it hadn't been there before, tucked just slightly behind the monitor. The red skull logo glared at him, and Anti found himself frowning at he reached for the cap.

It hadn't been there before. He knew it hadn't. He turned it around in his hand, then dropped it when he felt moisture coating his fingers. Anti glared down at it before bringing his hands up to the monitor to see what–

There, his blood ran cold. His fingers were coated in dark, shining red. While his may have gone icy, the blood on his fingers was warm and he swallowed around the lump in his throat as he spun away from the monitor. His eyes darted through the small room.

"Disappointing…"

The voice made Anti's hair stand on end. It sounded so…empty. Devoid of emotion. Yet…like Jack's? Like his own.

"You're not Jack."

Anti flicked his wrist, and his knife materialized in his hand. The voice came from nowhere, yet seemed to fill the room at the same time.

"Who–"

"Shut up."

The monitor flickered before turning off, and Anti leaped out of his seat so fast it toppled to the side. He could barely see his own arms in the darkness as he held the knife out in front of him; as he backed into one of the corners so the…the…whatever it was couldn't get behind him.

"Tch. Can you even use that thing?"

Two cold hands grabbed his wrists; twisted them harshly until the knife fell to the soft carpet.

When the monitors flickered back to life, Anti was met face-to-face with a lookalike–an Ego–he'd never seen before. His eyes were cold and empty and blood trickled down his right temple in an endless stream.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	27. I can hear it calling my name, Jameson

**HCAnon asked:  
**Hey, it's me, HCAnon from your Ask The Outside blog! I have two requests for the horror prompts, one for mirror au, 137, with Anti, and **one for the monster au, 104, with anyone.** Thanks! "_  
Warnings: Mind Control  
_**104: "I can hear it calling my name."**_  
_(Monster AU)

* * *

Wooden limbs creaking with the slightest shift and lazy eyes drifting across the room, Jameson tried to find the strength to stand. He couldn't. He couldn't.

The voice. It spoke in the back of his mind. Called to him. It was distorted and distant, but he could still make out his name through the static in his head. His fingers twitched, and he barely managed to pull an arm into his lap. He couldn't speak. Not anymore. How would Marvin know he needed help with his back to the once-man? It had only been a few days. Just opening his eyes had been hard. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand on his own anymore.

Jameson would have swallowed if he could. His eyes shuttered closed, then flicked up to the ceiling light. He twitched his fingers into what he could manage for a grabbing gesture, and Central seemed to catch on. Thank you, he thought when the light flickered in a strange pattern, thank you.

Marvin's shoulders hiked up as he turned around, away from his desk and toward the puppet. Even beneath his mask, Jameson could see the sorcerer's brows creasing with worry.

"You good, Jamie?" he asked as he swept toward the younger one. His cape was billowing behind him, hair pulled back into a neat braid. "I'm trying, okay? I'll find a way to turn you back."

The odd little shutters that acted as eyelids closed slightly. Narrowed, in a way. Very slowly, he was able to shake his head. Someone was calling him! Didn't Marvin hear it?

The voice grew in volume, and Jameson would have flinched had he actually been able to move fast enough. As it were, he could only bring his eyes to close as Marvin reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't feel the touch. He wished he could. He wanted to find comfort in it.

His mouth dropped open, then clicked shut again when no sound came out. He wanted to cry, to scream, get up and run toward the voice that was–

"Jamie! Can you hear me?"

The wooden puppet's eyes slowly drifted open again. Marvin's face was…blurry. Was it really his face? He couldn't tell. Not with the voice in his head. It hurt. Why did it hurt? He couldn't feel anything anymore, how could something hurt.

Enemy. Danger. The voice was hissing into his head.

When Jameson could bring himself to open his eyes again, he felt…afraid, of the sorcerer. He shouldn't be afraid of Marvin. Why..?

Obey your strings.

Marvin seemed…surprised, when Jameson jerked straight up to sit eye-level with him. The puppet's head tilted. His movements felt more…natural.

Kill him.

Lurching forward, Jameson's hands went straight for Marvin's throat.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	28. Mountain, Chase and Bing

**olivesandcreeks asked:  
**_mountain with Bing orrrrr... chase..  
Warnings: Swearing__  
_(Superhero AU, canon to universe)

* * *

"The day I trust your gadgets is the day I electrocute myself to death…" Even so, the man grinned at Bing and shook his head. "How do you come up with this shit?"

"My gadgets have saved your ass more than once, Average." Bing cuffed the older man upside the head before returning to adjusting Bro Average's harness. "Just trust 'em for once and you'll get up there, get the docs, and get out. Piece of cake."

Average tipped his head back to peer up the steep cliff. He honestly didn't know how high it stretched up; all he did know was that if Bing's little contraption gave out, he'd break his whole damn body. They'd hiked two miles up already to get there; it would be a long way to the Doctors if he fell…

"If it's so easy, why don't you do it?"

"'Cause I don't do this stuff unless I'm the only one available. What? Scared'a heights?" Bing gave a smug grin and crossed his arms over his chest.

Average could only grumble under his breath as he braced himself against the cliff-face. "Fine. But if this thing gives out, you get to carry me all the way to Medic."

"Healer."

"Nuh-uh. Medic."

"…Fine." A hearty pat on the back nearly made Average's foot slip to send him the measly two feet back to the ground. All he could offer was a glare from behind his mask; Bing just grinned under his own. "Break a leg!"

"Don't say that!"

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	29. Get out of my head, Angus

**anonymous asked:  
**_For the prompts, can I get 66 with the hero au, and with anyone. Thanks :D  
Warnings: _Alcohol, Drinking, Hallucinations, Torture (sound-based), Swearing, Demeaning Nicknames/Phrasing_  
_**Prompt 66: "Get out of my head."**_  
_(Superhero AU, canon to universe)

* * *

Angus let out a slow breath as he slipped off his mask and tossed it aside. He didn't watch where it landed. He'd just find it later when he went out again. His jacket and boots followed suit–all before he'd even made it to the kitchen of his small apartment.

He reached into the fridge; rummaged about a bit until finding a liquor bottle and taking it with him to the living room.

The apartment was quiet. A safe haven away from the streets where he donned his mask and called himself Bloodhound. Angus slouched low into the couch as he took a long drink right from the bottle. Not even his partner knew where he lived. He'd prefer to keep it that way. Sure, he liked the guy, but he could only deal with Toymaker's incessant chatter for so long.

It wasn't long before aching limbs were relaxing into the soft cushions, drink set aside on the coffee table.

He rubbed at his eyes, yawned when he realized he hadn't slept whatsoever the night before.

Angus startled when the liquor bottle tipped over to send alcohol across the table and onto the cheap shag carpet. His mouth hung open as he blinked dazedly down at it. Don't kick the table, he scolded himself. How much had he drank? He couldn't tell now that it was spilled.

He shook his head; leaned forward to right it. His hand missed the bottle.

Angus shook his head again when his vision swam.

He hadn't drank enough to be drunk. …Had he?

He sat bolt upright when the floor creaked, but immediately regretted it when it made nausea twist his stomach.

Shhh.

The voice was soft. He couldn't pinpoint its origin in the dark apartment. Angus swallowed as his nostrils flared. The only scent he could pick up was his own body odor; the creaking stopped so that all he could hear was his own heartbeat.

This is a safe place, he reminded himself. You've gotta be dreamin', mate.

Look here.

Look where? Angus bared his teeth and pulled a blade from his belt. His vision swam again; he could see static at the corners of it.

Ah-ah. Play nice.

The knife was swatted from his hand and clattered off into the darkness. Cold hands snaked up his wrists, to his shoulders, found his neck. He didn't dare move as sharpened nails danced over his throat before the feeling was gone again.

The static crept across his vision; assaulted sensitive ears. Popping. Screeching. Angus hissed and pressed his hands over them when the volume continued to rise.

You like making them wonder. Don't you, Dog?

No matter how hard he pressed his hands over his ears, the voice still rang clear with its strange pitch-changing that grated on his hearing.

"S-stop…"

You like seeing them hope, but then turn to the other side just to watch it shatter when their offer isn't good enough. Such a greedy little puppy.

Angus could practically hear the smile in the other's tone. He dug his nails against the side of his head; squeezed his eyes shut when the volume increased again.

What happens when a new opportunity comes up, Dog? How long until you stab your partner in the back? Or, until he stabs you in yours?

"Ngh… Dammit, get outta my head!"

That ink… It would make for such a terrifying way to drown.

He could make out the silhouette. Barely. It stood even darker than the unlit apartment.

You really should choose a side. All your back-and-forth and back-and-forth is getting tiring. No one likes a bandwagon jumper and you're going in fucking circles. Chasing your own damn tail.

The figure scoffed. "Figure." He almost wanted to scoff himself if his ears weren't practically fucking bleeding. He knew exactly who this was.

Can sniff out anything and can't even smell your own bullshit.

Angus yelped when the figure–the Glitch–was suddenly on him; strong hands wrapping around his throat and threatening to squeeze. The deafening noise stopped so suddenly it was disorienting.

Pick a side. I'm getting tired of your shit, Bloodhound.

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	30. Holiday, Schneep

**maddf5 asked:  
**_Holiday, Schneep?__  
_(Not an AU)

* * *

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the doctor shook his head. Too much paperwork, too little time, he thought with a huff. He sat hunched over his at-home desk. His scrubs had been swapped out for a turtleneck and comfortable jeans, but he didn't have the time to relax.

His cellphone buzzed, but he simply flipped it face-down so he could focus on his papers. He needed them done by tomorrow. …Today? Last time he checked, it was almost midnight. He didn't dare check the clock again. He knew that when he did, he would be rushing out the door to make it to work on time.

Jackie had said he was overworking himself. Maybe the hero was right, but Schneep just had too much to do.

An hour ticked by. Then another. Schneep felt tingling down his back that made his hair stand on end. When he turned around, nothing was there. The air conditioned behind him had kicked on, though. He glared at it a moment. He really should move it so it wasn't right behind his head.

T̵ak̷e a br͝eak. Yo͟u ̨ne̕e͘d͏ i͘t̵~

Schneep jolted in his seat. It's just in your head, he thought. That thing wasn't there.

Ņo̢w,҉ now̴, Ḑocto̢r͏. Do͟n̡'̷t li̶e̵ ̴to̢ ̡y̕o͡ursel̶f̶.̴

He swallowed. When he looked up, he was met by a pair of pitch-black eyes and a fanged grin.

"W̢h͏ąt ̧do̷ y͝ou ͝sa͏y̕ to a̵n̵o̢th̛er͜ holi̷da͜y, Doc͠t̴or̕~͠? "

* * *

**AN: **Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	31. Delete, Schneep

constantly-cloud asked:  
_For the prompts: Delete with Outside Schneep.  
_(Outside AU, behind-the-scenes)

* * *

He didn't…_understand_. How could they just…

Pulling the crumpled ball of paperboard from his pocket, that damn card, he found himself glaring at it. Challenging it. Well, Marvin? Do you even remember that I'm not there? he thought bitterly. Did any of them? His clinic in Garage A was too quiet; it made his fists coming down on the metal surgical table far too loud. The sound echoed in his ears and made him grind his teeth in frustration.

What even was he to them?

Just a memory they could delete as if it was from a fucking phone, that's what.


	32. Toast, Devilplier

anonymous asked:  
_Toast with Devil. (Specifically Devil toasting the aniversairy of Casino's death.)  
((this was sent by someone I've talked to more in-depth about the Egos' Guardians. This is for the Devil's Casino, which was Devilplier's. This ficlet is set before the fic started))  
_(Outside AU, set before the fic's start)

* * *

The room was mostly dark, with the exception of the desk lamp that cast long shadows across the walls. Dark eyes watched manicured nails trace the edge of a mostly full wine glass.

In the Devil's free hand lay his cane. It was purely decorative; something he claimed had more sentimental value than anything. It was usually mounted on the wall behind his desk.

Today was…a special occasion.

He traced the intricate knob on the end. A doorknob. Such a silly thing to be attached to a cane.

The Devil raised his glass as the pad of his thumb ran over the vines etched into the knob. "Another year passed, my friend," he hummed. Twelve years to the day, Dev and the Devil's Casino had seen each other for the last time. Twelve years to the day, the Casino had forced the Devil to the humans' plane so that he wouldn't fade as the fans forgot him.

Raising the glass to his lips, the Devil took a long sip.

"I hope you're resting well, my friend."

* * *

**AN:** Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	33. Surprise Acupuncture, The Septics

scribblesandstrations asked:  
_Okay, a favorite quote of mine regarding our beloved Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, most likely in the 'normal' AU :O 'Surprise acupuncture', most likely by form of being piss poor at darts, the assailant being Schneep, and the victim I wanna leave it up to you, but I'm curious to see how you'd play Jameson in place of the victim!  
_(not an AU)

* * *

Peer pressure. The other Septics could be too good at it.

…Especially Chase and those damn puppy eyes.

Henrik had paperwork to do, but they'd easily dragged him out of his lab and to an upper-floor bar that he was positive hadn't been there before. Marvin had probably pleaded with their home to add it on. Central seemed willing to do just about anything the magician wanted it to.

The bar was small. Just a little at-home one with a tiny counter and cooler stocked with drinks. Two dart boards and a pool table that was already missing the cue ball were…honestly kind of in the way now that he was looking at them. This was definitely Marvin's doing. Central never would have gone _that _far if one of the others had asked for the room.

Eyes flicking up when Jackie took a seat next to him, Henrik arched a brow. "That is only your second beer and you're not walking straight."

"Yeah, and you're drinking our strongest shit."

"Because I have higher tolerance, yes? You are just the little tipsy hero." He nudged said hero, earning a roll of the eyes. "Is good Jameson wouldn't let you take the whisky–"

"Heh. Vhisky," Marvin parroted from where he'd sprawled out on the corner sofa, then giggled.

"…How much has he had?"

"Don't ask."

"Schneep. Schneeeep." The doctor glanced up to meet Chase's eager stare. "Wanna play darts?"

"…I– No. _Nein._"

"Aww c'mon! Why?"

Henrik blinked at that. "Because…I…say no?"

"Whyyyy?"

Pushing his glasses up, Henrik tapped his prosthetic eye. His nail clicked when it struck the hard acrylic. Chase just stared. "I would not be any good at it, I assure you."

"…Pleaaaase?" Shit. There were those damn puppy eyes again. If there was a contest for _that _look, Chase would win in a heartbeat. He had darts in both hands and held one out to the doctor. "I wanna play with someone!"

"Fine. Fine. But you cannot make fun of me when I miss the board." Jackie snickered at that.

"Deal!"

Chase's first dart ended up in the wall a few inches above the target. So much for Henrik being the one to put a dart in the wall. The room around them creaked and light flickered to show Central's irritation with the impromptu "piercing."

Henrik's ended up in the back of poor Jameson's shoulder while he washed shot glasses. The youngest yelped and dropped one of the glasses at his feet, shattering it, as a suds-covered hand scrabbled for the dart.

"OOoh…" Marvin's bright eyes were wide as he shot straight up into a sitting position. "S'like…s'like acupuncture!" he slurred as Henrik tried to carefully remove the dart despite Jameson flinching away. A tiny giggle, then, "Heh…s'prise Jamie! Didn' even need an appoin'ment…"

"…Would someone _please _take him to bed?"

* * *

**AN:** Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	34. Comfort, Jameson & Bing

scribblesandstrations asked:  
_I'm torn between some sad Jamie or some comforted Jamie.. Maybe being comforted from whatever you choose, probably feeling left out or overlooked? Comforted from whatever Ego you want? That one quotes post sparked some want for mute boy getting some love/comfort, and your Jamie is actually adorable  
_((How 'bout some Hero!AU Jameson (Stopwatch) and Bing interaction? :D Watch feels left out/ignored sometimes and Hero!Bing is…actually pretty introverted compared to my other versions of him?))_  
_(Superhero AU)

* * *

Stopwatch had his hands clasped together in front of him; bright eyes watching over the others like a hawk. They were celebrating. Celebrating…what? The hero had arrived at the scene just as everything was being cleaned up. A fight, he'd gathered that much. With who? No one had answered. They'd failed to even notice the movements of his hands, and it wasn't like he could hear what they were talking about.

The hero sighed and pulled one foot toward himself so he could rest his chin over his knee. There was no seating in this room of the Hideaway. That left him on the floor against a wall.

A tap on his shoulder caused the man to startle and jerk away. Amber brown eyes met his gaze. Bing tapped his own ear with a brow arched, and Stopwatch shook his head. No, he wasn't wearing his hearing aids.

Bing nodded and brought a hand out of his pocket to sign clumsily, "You good?"

"I can read lips," he replied. He appreciated the effort, but Bing's BSL was…practically unreadable if he was honest. "…Lonesome."

"They just don't see you. They're good at doin' that, man. They don't mean nothing by it. They're just focused on other stuff."

"Far too crowded in here."

"Heh. Agreed. I've got shit in my lab to work on. I really don't need more alcohol. …Mag doesn't, either. He looks about ready to eat shit–"

Stopwatch stifled a laugh at that. Magnificent was…far from steady where he leaned near the drinks. "Why don't you go, then?"

"Leave you all by your lonesome?" Bing slung an arm around Stopwatch's neck, and he couldn't help but grin wide behind his mustache. "Nah. Tell you what: I've got some board games in my lab if your up for a game? I'll totally kick your ass at chess."

"Don't promise what you can't pull off, dear Bing."

"Is that a challenge? Huh, Spandex? Is goody-two-shoes Stopwatch challenging me?"

"It's no challenge if I'm guaranteed a win, lad."

* * *

**AN:** Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	35. Spicy Air, Chase & Jackieboy

**scribblesandstrations asked:**  
" SPICY AIR " Character: Chase Universe: Apocalypse! :0_  
_(Apocalypse AU)

* * *

"Checked the basement yet?" Jackie's backpack was noticeably more full than when they'd entered the abandoned home.

Chase just offered a nod and gestured to the door to the garage. "Yeah. Think we just have that room left."

Both men's voices were muffled by the masks pressed tightly around their faces.

Both of their readers were giving intermittent beeps. Gas masks would be staying on unless they wanted to breathe in poison. Henrik had told them the "poison" was radiation. God, how many games had Chase played before this shit went down that fit _that _theme?

Shouldering his own bag, he followed the older man into the garage. There wasn't much in it, but maybe some of the tools would be useful.

"Hate this damn smell…" Jackie muttered as he sifted through cardboard to disturb the stale scents. His oxygen tank clanked loudly against the wall as he turned, causing both to jump. It wasn't connected to his mask at that moment, but never knew when you'd need one.

"Y'know…" Chase started as he opened a small, plastic tackle box to check for anything useful. Before even attempting to sort through all the rusty fishhooks, he closed the box and just shoved the whole thing in his backpack. "You ever think about how radiation is just, like…spicy air?"

Something clattered as Jackie dropped it. "…What did you just say?"

"Radiation's just spicy air!"

Behind Jackie's mask and its tinted goggles, Chase couldn't see his expression. He _could, _however, hear when Jackie busted out laughing when that finally set in. It was a wheezing, "did I really just hear that?" kind of laughter, and the younger man could only grin triumphantly.

* * *

**AN:** Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	36. Forgotten, District Attorney

**anonymous asked:**  
_Forgotten with the DA (The DA trying to remember faces when they can not remember themselves anymore.)  
_(Not an AU)

* * *

On the other side of the mirror stood a shape.

A shape with grayed skin and strange colors that made them think they were hallucinating.

It had been…how long? They pinched the bridge of their nose. Their free hand pounded on their side of the broken glass. They tried shouting. Maybe the figure could help them!

They couldn't hear their own voice, and the figure tilted his head as he looked into the cracks in the mirror.

The DA–that's what he'd called them, right? They couldn't remember anymore–sank to their knees when the figure didn't move to help them. They should know who he is. Shouldn't they? There was something…familiar, about him. They just. They couldn't put their finger on it.

* * *

AN: Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	37. Poison, Marvin & Chase

**olivesandcreeks asked:**  
_productive or poison for superhero au  
_(Superhero AU)

* * *

"This is the place, I guess?" Average's voice was quiet.

"You're certain?" Magnificent hadn't been familiar with the address, but apparently it was just an apartment. It was too quiet for an apartment. Average said it was too empty. Did anyone even live there?

There was a too-long pause before the other man answered. "Yeah. I know it is. Uh…stay in contact with the Hideaway."

Bro Average didn't need to say why. Something didn't feel right.

"What do you see?"

"A hall. Doors. Looks like the carpet hasn't been cleaned in a while. Typical low-cost complex."

Magnificent's milky eyes stared at what he figured was the hallway. Average shrank back away from the window. They were six stories up on the outside of the building, hovering thanks to the magician's magic. "Apartment 8F should be just over here if I'm right," the man said.

It was night out. They almost never went out in the day. Avoiding police was a lot easier that way.

"This one." Magnificent could hear a window being forced open, then felt his magic's hold on Average snapping when he got out of range probably climbing in through the window. The magician followed suit.

Bloodhound's place. It _smelled _like him. Magnificent's nose scrunched at the acrid scent of alcohol and cheap cologne. Average smelled like whisky sometimes, but it wasn't like this. The smell was almost like it was ground into the carpet. It had taken Bing a long time to figure out the location, but there it was.

"Dunno when he'll be back, so we need to find the bag and get out."

The bag supposedly had sensitive information.

"Sensitive" as in blueprints of a bank or company building. Blueprints that could help Bloodhound and the Toymaker break into whatever it was unnoticed.

The door creaked as Average led them into the bedroom. He made a beeline for the closet, while Magnificent crouched to paw under the bed. Eugh. It was a mess under there.

_Tsking _was the only warning Magnificent got before something hard came down on the back of his head. He hissed as he got a facefull of carpet and Average shouted. The door slammed shut before the other man even made it to the other side of the bed. It was already barricaded by something judging by Average's vain attempt to shoulder it open again.

"Google's got somethin' new to try out." The voice on the other side of the door was familiar. A cocky voice with an Australian accent. "So shut up and sit tight while I figure out how the hell to turn it on."

Hissing from the vents. The air was growing heavy with…something.

"Mag, get up! I can't carry you out the window!" Average was tugging at his arm. "Get us outta here, man!"

He offered a wince instead and clutched the back of his throbbing head. What did Bloodhound hit him with? Did he have a concussion? His thoughts were getting fuzzy.

Average was coughing now. It was hard to breathe. "C'mon, man!" His words were spluttered. Gasped. " Magnificent! _Get up!_"

* * *

**AN:** Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	38. Productive, Bing & Eric

olivesandcreeks asked:  
_**productive** or poison for superhero au  
(( __Bing and Eric for this one. Eric's hero alias is "Runner." He has super speed and lost his legs to Wilford, and Bing's been trying to build him prosthetics that can handle the speeds Eric can travel at. Bing has no powers, and is a scientist/engineer. I've never written Eric before, so bear with me  
Sorry for lack of content, especially for Outside ^^" Kinda needed a mental health break from it. I'll try to get back to it soon_ _))__  
_(Superhero AU)

* * *

Runner's mask was resting on the table beside him, his prosthetics removed as the new ones were sized. There was no need hiding his face when they were alone in the Bing's locked office. He'd designed everyone's suits, after all. He knew everyone's identities.

"Those ones are shaped weird," Runner said. He picked up the one leaning against his chair while Bing worked on the other. "They're really light."

"Just tryin' something different." Bing didn't look up. Unlike Runner—Eric, the kid's real name was—Bing's identity wasn't known by anyone but the Doctors. And Magnificent and the Host. But_ that_was only because the two could See or Feel everyone's unique energies. He couldn't help that one.

Despite designing everyone's costumes, his own was crude. Thrown together. He was never on the field, so he didn't see the need to waste resources making a nice one for himself. Even his mask was cobbled together pieces of a welding mask that he could flip the visor up on to reveal only his eyes.

"Why are they shaped like this?"

"Jackrabbit legs." Bing shrugged at the surprised look to cross Runner's face. "I dunno. Figured it doesn't hurt to try a different shape. If they don't work, they don't work, and I'll try somethin' else." He leaned back, studying the prosthetic with a trained eye, before nodding. "Okay. Go ahead and try 'em on."

Instead of putting them on right away, Runner looked Bing right in the eyes. His brows furrowed with worry the longer he looked. "You need sleep," he said. It was quiet. He was more comfortable around Bing than a lot of the other heroes, but the man could still hear the stuttery teenager somewhere in the now-twenty-year-old's voice. "How much have you been working?"

Bing just smiled behind his mask. Runner couldn't see the man's mouth, but he'd at least be able to see the way his eyes scrunched up with the action. "Gotta be productive. Too much to do."

Runner had pulled one of the legs on. It immediately started bouncing in a nervous tick as he went to grab the other. "You, uh…can't really be productive if you're passed out on the floor."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that one. "Okay, yeah. You got me there. Tell ya what: These work, I'll go home early and sleep. Yeah?"

"No." Runner was shaking his head. Even if there was hesitation in his voice, he was going to say it anyway, "Even if it doesn't work, you'll go home and sleep. Please?"

"Nooo, don't give me that face!" Bing flipped his visor down, blinding him to anything but the brightest light in the corner of his office.

The kid was sure good at the little-brother-begging-face. He looked so sad!

"Okay, okay, fine!" He flipped his visor back up. He did _try _to glare. He really did. It just came out as a chuckle. "Only if you don't hurt yourself trying 'em out. If you do, I'm not leavin' until the Docs give you the okay. Deal?"

"Okay. Yeah. Deal."

* * *

**AN:** Want to send your own prompts? You can do so at my Tumblr (blitzindite) by sending an ask with a word and character(s)!


	39. Imposter, Dark

anonymous asked:  
_" If you're doing one word writing prompts, may I request one using 'impostor' and the monster au? "_  
Warnings: Implied Minor Character Death  
_(Monster AU)_

* * *

It was…curious, how blind humans could be to what stood right in front of them. How they continued to smile, chatter away about their lives. Even as the gates surrounding the city seemed to tower higher with each year, as more Hunters disappeared to the creatures of the woods, those who never left acted like everything was fine and dandy.

A supper, held to thank the loyal followers of Howling Moon Radio. Celine at the podium with an easy smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes, dress sparkling in the overhead light to keep their gazes.

Maybe she slipped away halfway through the dinner. Maybe one of the guards armed with silver, holy water, iron, and more, disappeared from her post.

Maybe the human guests would be none the wiser when the guard returned with false versions of her weapons and an easy smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Maybe the human guests wouldn't notice if a few of the Hunters among them disappeared throughout the night.

It was a party with drinks, after all. Who would expect a monster living within the gates?


	40. Performance, Jacques

anonymous asked:  
_" Since I'm a big fan of the monster au, I would like a fic using 'performance' and the monster au, please. "_  
_(Monster AU)_

* * *

Magic sparked from their fingers. Their clothes had been torn, a wound in their arm weeping into the loose fabric of their top. Their eyes glowed yellow; the glow dripping down their cheeks like fresh paint, dissipating before it could stain their shirt.

Breaths uneven; they'd be lying if they said they weren't afraid. Hunters. How had Hunters found them?

Even so, the two men–two Hunters–were the ones left cowering in the corner they'd backed themselves into. Both injured, one wouldn't be walking at all unless his companion half-carried him with his leg twisted so strangely.

At the sorcerer's side, Muse growled and pinned her ears against her head. Her warning barks had been the only warning Jacques got. Without her, the sorcerer would probably already be dead. They offered her a distracted pat between the ears. _"Bon Garcon,"_ they praised; the Hunters both flinched as if expecting a spell.

Jacques fixed their eyes back on the two. Their magic was dancing around them, their dog, left very little space between the sorcerer and the Hunters. It painted pictures in yellows, blues, reds, in the open air between them, colors swirling together to create bright new ones.

The two had probably expected a werewolf, perhaps a vampire, if their weapons were any indicator. Both so young, inexperienced, probably shouldn't have even been out on their own. They'd expected a film-worthy fight with something easy to kill.

"If it is a show you wanted, a show what you will get."

Magic that was far too much like thick paint, magic that could so easily drown the humans, surged forward.


	41. Freedom, Eric

anonymous asked:  
_" Noticed you were doing a few monster requests and I would like to add one. Freedom with Eric; specifically Eric revelling in the freedom that comes with being a Teke teke. "  
(Monster AU)_

_(( this was a tough one! I'm not sure saying he revels in the freedom is completely accurate (mostly since he can't remember much else), but I think I did okay with it considering specified scenarios tend to give me trouble. "a face that resembled his, but older" is referring to Derek, btw ;) ))_

* * *

Silver eyes ringed with blue shone bright in the darkness. Too-long nails tapped at cracked concrete; the sound seemed to echo through the subway tunnel.

The spirit's head tilted as he listened. Far in the distance, the rumbling of a train. Soon, the tunnel would shake as it was bathed in light on its approach to the platform's waiting humans.

Armed guards–Hunters–stood ready at all entrances to the platform. They kept their heads on a swivel, iron bars held stiffly. Just by looking at them, it was easy to tell the veterans from the rookies.

They didn't used to keep their iron weapons readied down there. They used to be more worried about de-fanged vampires sneaking in among the humans, or demons that had trained themselves not to react to the tiny splash of holy water that tested each passenger, or shapeshifters whose only indicator was how their eyes reflected when the flashlights were used.

Eric–that was his name, wasn't it? he couldn't really remember anymore–had thought it strange. He'd watched the Hunters shift priorities over the years. Sure, they still worried about the other creatures, but the iron bars? Iron was good for ghosts, and ghosts alone.

Each guard was armed to protect against the single spirit to haunt the subway.

Eric couldn't remember why he'd started doing what he did. All he did remember was anger and confusion and…he'd felt betrayed. Why? He'd seen…a familiar face. A face that resembled his, but older; he couldn't remember the name anymore. He couldn't remember why he'd killed the man. He couldn't remember why he'd taken the man's legs.

Why were his own gone again? A train. A train, that's what would make sense; he was trapped in the subway, after all.

All he did know, all he could remember, was that stalking someone foolish enough to be on their own, chasing them, watching their terror when he could somehow keep up, breaking them, hiding detached legs of the human victims away in the subway where the collection still hadn't been found–it was all that let him feel anything.

The spirit dragged his claws over the concrete, tapped them in time to the nearest guard's heartbeat.

The young man tensed and spun toward the sound. He visibly paled when he caught sight of Eric's eyes in the darkness of the tunnel beyond the platform. Maybe putting the guards and work crews on edge was somewhat amusing, as well.

The man shouted for another guard, but Eric had already disappeared. Despite it all, he was a shy thing. He'd never liked an audience. He'd always wondered if he'd been that way before he died, too.

He could still hear the young guard getting frantic, could hear the passengers waiting for the train getting anxious as his volume increased.

Poor guy would probably quit by morning.


	42. Split, Bing & Blue

**anonymous asked:**  
_" I think I'll jump on the monster au prompt bandwagon and ask for split, any character. Thanks! "_  
_(Monster AU)_

* * *

Creaking joints, robotic chittering, exposed metal. There were two of them. They appeared as if, maybe at one time, they may have looked human.

Now, synthetic skin had been torn away in strips, underlying metal rusted, their eyes–blue and orange–glowing too bright in the shadows of the trees.

They tilted their heads at each other; the one the scientist had called simply "Blue" trilled low at its companion. "Bing" chirped a response, and the two parted ways.

Trespassers, near the lab in which they'd been built. Humans, their scans said. Armed with cameras, mics, nothing more. Investigators.

Like dogs herding a flock of sheep, the androids would split ways, circle around the humans. Trespassers. Trespassers were bad. Dangerous. No one else was supposed to be in the lab. No one but them. _No one._

Air hissed sharply from Blue's chest; the humans nearest bolted.

Bing chittered (how long had it been since their voice boxes stopped working? no matter; it wasn't like they needed to speak to humans anyway) and the closest investigator ran for her companions.

They always expected spirits when they came with the cameras. None of them ever anticipated something manmade. None ever expected the robots programmed to kill.

Bing smiled at them. It used to be so friendly. Now, torn cheeks that exposed the mechanisms beneath made it too threatening; a Glasgow smile that split half of its face. A Hunter had attacked it to create the tear in the synthetic skin. Blue never smiled. Bing always did. It had been programmed to do so, all the time, after all.

An expensive camera broke as it hit the ground, Blue's hands around the man's throat.


	43. Found Out, Wilford

anonymous asked:  
_" Another monster request came to me. Found Out with Wilford; him learning his true nature and how it breaks his "human" mind. "_  
_(Monster AU)_  
Warnings: Hangover, Panic Attack, Mention of Drinking

_(( he was in college when he discovered he wasn't human. hope this one turned out okay! I'm not too sure about it ^^" ))_

* * *

A hangover was pounding at his skull; William groaned and pulled his arms over his face. He vaguely remembered his roommate dragging him back to their dorm the night before. When he dared a peak despite the bright light filtering through the window, he noticed Ferdinand's bed was unmade. Strange. That wasn't like him. Showering, maybe. Or he'd been late for a class.

What had happened last night? Ugh, never going to one of those parties again, he thought as he scrubbed at his eyes.

He forced himself to sit up and startled when he noticed his roommate standing near the window.

"Good god," William chuckled. "I'd thought you were out of the room!"

No answer. Ferdinand didn't even look him.

"…Ferdie?"

Still as stone.

William grit his teeth against the headache and climbed to his feet. Ferdie's eyes didn't follow; just…stared at a single point in the room. His mouth was hanging open like he'd been interrupted mid-sentence.

"Hello? Ferdie? Ferdinand?"

He placed a hand on the man's shoulder, jolted when Ferdie gasped and stumbled into the wall. He blinked dazedly, looked to the window like it had wronged him, looked to William with owlish eyes. "…Huh?"

"What were you doing?"

"I was…talking to you..? How's it morning?"

"Got a hangover, eh?" William laughed, but his smile fell away at his roommate's severe glare.

"I barely drank anything last night. I was too busy making sure _you _didn't put yourself in a coma!" Ferdie ran his hands over his face. "Will, you drank so much it should have _killed _you! I-I thought I was going to bring you back here, and you'd end up not waking up tomorrow. …To…day?"

"Now you're just being dramatic. Look at me! Got a hangover, but I'm perfectly fine."

"'Perfectly fine'? Do you realize how strange you were acting last night?"

"Strange? You were the one standing here like a creep."

"You were…doing things last night. And then…undoing them? Everyone thought it was just…party tricks. But your sleight of hand sucks. A child can do better. How were you..?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It reminded me of a…a _sorcerer, _maybe?"

William tensed up at that. "Don't you dare go accusing me of magic. Sorcerers are _dangerous, _Ferdie. I'm not one of them!"

"…I don't know. How long was I standing there?"

"How the hell should I know? I was asleep."

Ferdinand scrunched his brows. "I…I'm having a hard time believing that."

William scowled. Threw his hands out in annoyance.

The springs in both of their beds busted through the mattresses and shot up toward the ceiling. They stayed there, hovering, as both men stared with mouths agape.

When William's arms fell to his sides, the springs followed suit: Hitting the mattresses, falling to the floor around their feet.

Ferdie swallowed, backed himself in the corner where his desk met the window wall.

"…You're not human."

"Wha… Ferdie–"

"You're not _human!" _He was scrambling for something–anything–that he could defend himself with. A heavy Science book was all he could find, holding it out like it could protect him.

"Bu– But I _am!" _When he pulled his arms close to his chest, his desk started taking itself apart. They both watched it with wide eyes as each piece put itself in a neat little pile until the entire thing was dismantled.

Not…human?

"What the hell are you?!"

Not human? William swallowed. That wasn't…possible.

He started backing away from Ferdinand, slipped on the springs littering the floor.

When he hit the ground, he was no longer in their room. He felt dirt beneath him. He could feel his heart in his ears, his breathing heavy.

…Not human. Not human.

He was trembling. His breath tried catching in his throat.

Oh, god. No, no, that's not…it wasn't possible. How could he not be human? Monsters were dangerous, they were killers.

William tucked his head in his arms.


	44. Amber, Jackieboy & Jameson

**olivesandcreeks asked:**  
_" Amber with apocalypse au "_  
_(Apocalypse AU)_

* * *

Jackie grunted as he helped his companion clamor up onto the roof. The ladder was old, rusted; it had creaked under their weight, forced them to climb up one at a time lest they risk it collapsing to send them to the ground below or leave them stranded at the top. There were other survivors a few blocks down who they'd slunk away from without being noticed.

Best to keep to themselves. Who knows who would go after them for their supplies and gladly leave them for dead. He knew the two of them could handle a few, but it had sounded like a group of at least half a dozen, as well as a dog. They couldn't risk it.

Both were panting. They needed water, but their readers kept going off; while nowhere near the worse they'd seen, the radiation in the air was too heavy in that area. Their masks needed to stay on if they wanted to continue breathing.

"Y'good?" Jackie rasped, voice muffled behind his mask.

All Jameson offered was a tired thumbs-up before using his sleeve to start rubbing the dust away from his goggles.

"Take a breather." He set his heavy bag down, followed it with the currently unneeded oxygen tank; Jameson followed suit before plopping himself down and laying back on the concrete roof of what was once a business.

Jackie ran a gloved hand through his hair, greasy strands falling and sticking back against his scalp and catching the straps of his mask. He knelt behind the little wall that acted as a barrier between the roof and a five-story drop, crossed his arms over it. He could see some of the city from there.

_"It looks dead,"_ Jameson signed after more or less crawling to his side.

"It is."

Jackie sighed and rested his chin over his arms. His goggles discolored the sky, but he about had it memorized by now. It was a sickly amber color, had been from the moment they woke up to see what had been left of their world. He couldn't remember what blue skies looked like anymore. Even the clouds looked ill.

"Think we'll ever see blue skies again..?"

Jameson's hesitation was answer enough.

Probably not in their lifetime.


	45. Exile, Blue

**anonymous asked:**  
" exile with either au "  
(Superhero AU)

_(( eyyy villain backstory time! ))_

* * *

Shattering glass when a mug was knocked off the desk.

Splintering wood as a picture frame was slammed down.

Pens bouncing as they hit the ground.

Terminated? _Terminated?_

Blu threw something across the room. He didn't look at what it was. He didn't care.

They…they couldn't be _fired! _

Ben had slunk away like a kicked puppy to start clearing out his office. How could he resign himself to it so easily? They'd worked so hard for this! They'd graduated a few years early, they'd excelled in college, and now. Now they were being fired?!

Blu grit his teeth and growled.

They'd only wanted to help people. Help the ones who couldn't afford the ridiculously expensive, high quality prosthetics. Now the affordable alternative the team of two had worked _years _on would be rebranded, only available to the richest of clients or those with only the best insurance, with someone else's name on the copyright. They knew that's exactly how it would go, and there was nothing they could do about it. A multi-million dollar company versus two men who'd only graduated a few years ago? They wouldn't stand a chance.

_"Don't do anything rash."_ He could already hear Ben's voice in his head.

Rash? _Rash? _They were biomedical engineers. Where would they go now? Where _could _they go?


	46. Judgement, Edward, Host, & Eric

**olivesandcreeks asked:**  
_" judgement for apocalypse au (I really like this au ok) "  
(Apocalypse AU)_

* * *

He didn't like leaving the hospital. It made him anxious; he never knew when another survivor could turn a corner.

Fortunately, he didn't have to go scavenging on his own anymore. The guy he'd rescued after getting attacked by a pack of dogs had chosen to stay with him after he'd recovered. They were both alone. They both understood how much safer it was to have someone watching your back.

Edward wasn't really sure how he'd survived on his own for so long.

"Someone's been here recently," he warned his companion. There were tracks in the mud that led straight for the abandoned home; they were shaped strangely. Unless they'd left through the back, there were no tracks coming back from the house.

Isaac offered a nod and tightened his hands around his bat.

Gun drawn, Edward inched ahead with Isaac at his back. The door was closed but unlocked. The two tucked themselves against the wall, then threw it open with Edward pointing his weapon toward the entrance.

No one exited. No movement from inside, either. He tugged lightly at his companion's coat and the two slunk in silently. The back door was barricaded from the outside; whoever had come in never left.

Muzzle of the gun sweeping around one corner at a hallway that branched into a T, then down the other. Still no one.

"They may have died within the house," Isaac offered quietly. Even so, his shoulders remained tense and single, cataractous eye focused the best it could on a closed door down one hall. The rest had been left open or even completely broken off their hinges.

Inching forward. He trusted Isaac to take up the rear, both kept their ears pricked for any sign of movement.

When Edward reached for the handle and it rattled slightly, they heard shuffling, tripping, then a closet door being hurriedly slid shut.

They glanced at each other. Isaac hoisted his bat up; Edward made sure a round was ready in the chamber.

Into the room. Isaac rested one hand on the closet door. It was one of those doors that slid along a track. It was wobbly and looked ready to come off the track with any wrong movement. Edward raised the gun with one hand. With his free one he offered wide gestures that his companion's blurred vision could pick up on.

One… Two… Three…

Isaac shoved the door open; Edward bared his teeth and bowed his body low, gun aimed for the stranger's head. He nearly faltered.

…He was practically a kid.

The kid was trembling, a rusted crowbar held in front of him, tears visible even behind his mask and the glasses resting crookedly on his nose. He didn't have feet, and instead scratched, metal prosthetics that had rusted where the coating wore off took their place. One looked bent and loose. Those would explain the odd shape of the tracks.

"Who are you with?" he finally demanded when he forced himself to look the kid in the eyes.

There was no answer right away. When Edward shoved the gun forward, the kid dropped his crowbar and threw his hands up placatingly. "I-I was with my-my dad! But h-he was killed… I'm alone! I'm alone!"

When Edward cast a look to his companion, Isaac only shrugged. "You are the one to make our judgement calls."

So did they search around the house to inure the kid wasn't just bait and offer him a place with them if he wasn't? Kill him for his (admittedly limited) supplies and ransack whatever was left in the house? Leave him there and search elsewhere?

Well, they could always use another pair of eyes.


	47. Planting a Garden, Marvin & Chase

**olivesandcreeks asked:**  
_" you could write something about one of the septics planting a garden? "_  
_(Not an AU)_

_(( canon-compliant(ish?) - I need to figure out a name for my version of "canon" since it's still _technically _an AU- ))_

* * *

It wasn't something Marvin did very often. He was usually in a suit that he didn't want to dirty up, or maybe the weather didn't permit.

He ran his hand through the soil; it was still damp from when it had rained last night. He could occasionally feel drops of water falling against the back of his old, stained dress shirt that came off the leaves above him. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he wore a pair of tattered jeans rolled up just below his knees. The pants were Chase's, however, and comically short against the magician's long legs when they were unrolled. He'd left his mask in his room for once, and pulled his hair into a loose ponytail.

He wasn't sure where the others were. None of them would mind if he took over the little abandoned corner of the garden, would they? Surely not. It was the corner that had died out a long time ago while the rest of the yard flourished with fruiting trees and budding flowers. In the back of his mind, he could still picture all the colors.

When Marvin's hand found a dried-out stem, he couldn't tell what it had once been. It crumbled away in his grasp. Not even his magic could have brought _that _flower back.

He reached for the package of seeds at his side, ran his fingers over the smooth surface. The letters weren't raised to tell him what they were, but Schneep had said they were marigolds. A yellow and orange variety. Marvin had always thought the garden needed more marigolds, anyway.

Some dirt hit him from behind, but all he did was roll his eyes.

"Yo!" Chase laughed. "Mind if I join ya?"

Marvin flicked some dirt back with a grin. The younger Ego's offended gasp was all he needed to know he'd hit his target. "Go fill the watering can. And you better not get your shoes dirty–those are new!"

"Okay, okay!" He could _hear _the grin in Chase's voice. "After that…how 'bout we see who can plant the most?"

"Gardening isn't a race, you dork."

"Can be if ya try!"


	48. Bonding, Chase & Marvin

**Warnings: **_None_  
Characters: Marvin the Magnificent, Chase Brody, Septic Eye Sam, Chase's Droids (Bolt)  
_Star Wars AU_

_(( Chatta-ragul (mentioned) is like chess, just a SW version of it ))_

* * *

"Wouldn't take you as the type to play."

Chase rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "Not usually. But my big sis taught me to play, so I like to keep a board around."

Marvin looked genuinely surprised. "You've got a sister?"

"Heh, yeah. Two of 'em, and three brothers. Our parents had their hands full!"

"Damn." The Cathar chuckled, shook his head, then pointed to the board. "Wanna play a round? Been years since I have."

"You know how to play?" Chase reached for the board, then put his hands on his hips. Aw, no, poor guy couldn't reach it! Marvin thought with a poorly concealed chuckle. He stepped forward to reach over the Bothan's head and pulled it off the shelf with ease. "Heh… Thanks."

When they started setting the Chatta-ragul board up on a table, Sam and one of Chase's droids peeked in curiously–the old battle droid. Bolt, he believed was the name. Chase didn't notice them until he turned around, only for his fur to immediately fluff up when he jumped.

Marvin couldn't stop a snort that time and pressed his lips together when the Bothan glared at him. Sam and the droid were laughing, too, and got the same look. Sam only laughed harder.

"Okay," Chase challenged, "how 'bout Sam and Bolt play the first round?"

It was Marvin's turn to laugh when they both immediately shut up. "Now, that's not fair," he chuckled.

"Afraid Sam would lose? They should give it a try!" Chase crossed his arms, then spluttered when he couldn't keep a straight face. "…No, really, Sam could kick Bolt's butt. He sucks at strategy games. Likes 'em, but sucks at 'em."

The droid nodded somberly.

Marvin just covered his face.

How had he gone from glaring at and threatening this guy to sleeping in his spare room and joking with his _droids? _For a smuggler, he was impossibly endearing.


	49. Bad Guy, Jackieboy & Anti

**scribblesandstrations asked: **_I remember a Sanders sides going along the lines of "Don't worry, everyone loves the bad guy." You could play off of that in... well, total creative freedom! :0 Mayhaps Main-verse, or even Hero AU!_

**Warnings:** _Mind Control, Kidnapping, Zalgo  
_Characters: Jackieboy Man, Antisepticeye  
_Main Verse_

* * *

Bound.

Cold chains around his wrists. Biting them. Making them hurt. The old things holding him on his feet.

The hand to grip his chin didn't have nails–it had talons. Sharp, digging against his flesh.

Jackieboy bared his teeth and spat at the glitch.

"If you were so damn powerful," he growled, "you would've been able to capture me _without _waiting for someone else to break my goddamn leg." The cast made a funny sound when he dragged it against the concrete floor.

Anti clicked his tongue.

"But whe̴re ́woùl̡d̵ the fu͟n͡ ͏be ͜then, ́de͞a͏r hero̧~?"

Jackie grimaced and grit his teeth when a foot stomped down on his toes, crushing that part of the cast beneath it.

"B͝esides.̶..̴ "

Something tugged at his mind, his wrists, tried to coax his eyes shut with the feeling of pinpricks around them. No. No, no, no. _Fight. It._

He jerked his head away from the glitched hands, snapped at his fingers with his teeth.

"Don't touch me."

"Tsk. Do͟n'̀t _w̴orry_.͞.." Firm hands cupped his cheeks, pressed talons against his skin, _dared _him to try and move again. He could feel the strings taking hold. He couldn't fight them. "Eve͟ryone ̵l͏oves̛ ͘t̨h̛e b͡ad gu͡y… Sh͠ow̕ them the v͢ill͝ain you͜ can͠ ̨b͠e."

A grinning face looked back at him. What…was he fighting again?

Jackieboy grinned back.


	50. Frosted, Schneep & Jackieboy

**anonymous asked: **_Frosted, whoever?_

**Warnings: **_None_  
Characters: Dr. Schneeplestein, Jackieboy Man  
_Superhero AU_

* * *

"…The first frost is early this year," Henrik murmured from the window; the white marks spiderwebbed across it and he couldn't help but glare at them. With a sigh, he let the curtain fall shut and wheeled away from it with a frown.

Jackie glanced at him over his glasses. "Where're you going?"

"Mm… A walk, I think." He grabbed a light hood from where it was folded near the door and slipped it on, followed by a blanket tucked around his legs. "Won't be long before the snow makes it too difficult. Would you like to come?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure!" The younger man jumped to his feet and tripped around the coffee table to grab his jacket off the door.

"How is it _you _are the one to always run into things?" Henrik teased as a plastic vase on the table tipped over. They'd learned to stop putting real flowers in it; the fake ones spilled out onto the floor. At least they were harder to ruin the petals on.

Jackie just rolled his eyes and nudged his friend's chair with his foot. "Says the guy who ran my toes over yesterday."

"Bah. You stepped in front of me and were asking for it, _mein Freund_."

They were both laughing as they left the apartment and locked it behind them. When they left the building, there was a slight chill to the air. Nothing too bad, and Henrik thought it was the perfect temperature, really.

"Is a bit slippery," Henrik warned when one of his wheels spun in place for a moment. This side of the building was cast in shade; the sunny street beyond already had the night's frost melted, though.

His warning apparently came too late. Jackie yelped as a foot shot out from beneath him to send him onto his back end. The older man bit his cheek in an attempt not to laugh as he offered a hand to help Jackie back up.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Jackie stuck his tongue out. "Yeah, yeah. And don't act like you totally weren't trying not to laugh."

A hand over the heart as he looked innocently over his glasses. "I would _never!"_

"Yeah. Uh-huh." He ducked into a slight crouch. "Last one to the coffee shop pays?"

"Oh, you play a dangerous game, Jackie Marr!" Henrik grinned, hands gripping his wheels. "We both know who always wins."

"Hey! I've won three times! You've only won like… Oh."

Henrik only laughed as he took off. He'd lost count of how many wins_ he_ had.


	51. Flower Crowns, Chase & Jackieboy

**anonymous asked: **_Platonic Jackie and Chase with the prompt "Flower Crowns"?_

**Warnings: **_None  
_Characters: Jackieboy Man, Chase Brody  
_Main Verse_

* * *

Downtime was a luxury for the hero. It was rare for him to get a full day where he could just sit back and watch some TV, or chat with the others, or raid the fridge to sneak a taste of the baked goods often cooling in there. He didn't get as much time as he'd have liked to hang out with the others, either, but they all seemed busy!

At least, he _thought _they were.

He shouldn't have been surprised when Chase vaulted over the back of the couch, nearly landing on his chest, and grabbed his arm. He was grinning–that meant nothing bad had happened–but he was sure determined to pull Jackie off the couch.

"Okay, okay!" the hero laughed, rolling off and leaping up to his feet. Chase never stopped tugging, bringing him toward one of the back doors. "Words, Chase!"

The younger Ego was grinning, laughing, eyes bright. "The garden's been blooming, like, all month and you haven't seen it yet! You gotta, man, it's so colorful!"

He let himself be pulled out the door, the two nearly tumbling off the porch when Chase wasn't watching where he was going. Off the porch, down the stone path, to the blanket Jameson usually had out there, though he was nowhere in sight.

"Look how _colorful _everything is!"

When Jackie sat down, Chase was already bolting off. The hero was left with his mouth hanging open with the question he never got the chance to ask.

Well. Someone had energy, he thought with a good-natured chuckle.

"Okay, okay, okay–" he had an armful of flowers when he came sprinting back; Jackie arched a brow, "–so my kids taught me how to make flower crowns, right? And–and everyone else is busy, so can I _please _make you a crown? I know you probably just wanna relax, but–"

"Chase." Jackie moved over to make room on the blanket. The other man's enthusiasm was contagious and he couldn't help his grin widening. "Only if you show me how and take pics for your kids."

"Yes!" When he pumped a fist in the air, he dropped about half of the flowers he'd been juggling to carry.

With Jackie putting his hood down and Chase tossing his hat off to the side, he showed the hero how to make one with a smile on his face the entire time and endless patience.

Chase's actually turned out pretty dang well for only having done it a few times with his kids.

Jackie's on the other hand…was a mess. It sat crooked on Chase's head no matter how he tried to adjust it and some of the flowers (or…okay, _most_ of the flowers) looked like they wanted to fall out, but the father beamed regardless.

"Dude, you've gotta wear flower crowns more often."

"Hah! Long as it's not one I made."

"No! You did good–I'm totally keeping this!" Chase pulled his phone out of his pocket and wrapped an arm around Jackie's shoulders.

Where the hero smiled and threw up a peace sign, Chase scrunched up his nose and stuck out his tongue, then snapped…well. More pictures than Jackie could keep track of, if he was honest.

"What are ya gonna do with it now?"

Jackie patted a gentle hand onto his crown to make sure it still sat snugly in his hair. "Probably ask Marv if he can put a preservation on it or somethin'. It'll look nice on my wall!"

Chase dropped his phone and gave a thrilled clap. "You're actually gonna keep it?"

"Duh!"


	52. Disney, Marvin & Chase

**anonymous asked: **_Platonic Marvin and Chase with "Harry Potter" or "Disney"?_

**Warnings: **_Food Mention  
_Characters: Marvin the Magnificent, Chase Brody  
_Main Verse_

* * *

Chase's kids had run off to play games, but neither he nor Marvin had bothered to turn off the TV.

The magician's face was tilted toward the screen while his fingers skimmed the raised patterns in his book. He could feel Chase leaning at his side, but he didn't mind. They both found physical contact comforting.

"Been ages since I've seen this movie," he finally said with a smile coming to his lips.

Chase stretched, and Marvin could hear the faint buzz as he hit the home button on his phone. "What? _Brother Bear_? It's Sophe's favorite!"

"It's a good choice." Marvin tucked his bookmark into the book after finishing the page and leaned forward to set it on the coffee table he knew would be a couple feet from the couch. "Ever shown 'em _Atlantis_?"

He could imagine the way Chase scrunched his brows in thought, maybe scratching at his beard, then, "Y'know… I don't think so! Maybe when Ky was really little? He probably wouldn't remember it."

With a flick of the wrist, Marvin felt a case appear in his hand. Plastic, smooth; the cover was probably a bit off as he was going from memory, but otherwise he knew exactly what he held in hand. "Okay, you have _got _to show them _Atlantis. _This is _the_ best Disney movie and I will fight you on that."

When he pushed the case into Chase's hands, the younger Ego started laughing. "You dissin' _Meet the Robinsons_? My dude, I'm sorry but you're _so _wrong."

"Oh yeah? How about we see who Sophie and Ky agree with?"

Another flick of the wrist, another case. This one had a blank white case–Marvin…honestly couldn't remember what the cover art looked like–but it was still the movie Chase was so _wrongly_ claiming was the better of the two.

"Is that a bet?"

"Whoever wins gets the other's dessert tonight." Marvin's clouded eyes narrowed and a challenging smirk found its way on his lips. "I think Schneep was gonna make cheesecake."

"Oh, you're _on!_"


	53. Theorists, Anti & Host

**anonymous asked: **_Maybe mirrorverse Anti and Host being friends? You said they run theory blogs, I'd like to see something with that..._

**Warnings: **_None  
_Characters: Antisepticeye, The Host  
_Mirror AU_

* * *

Two sets of hands tacked away at their keyboards–on loud and forceful, the other far more quiet as soft narrations spilled from his lips.

"Nothing's workin'…" the Septic growled at he glared at his screen. No bites. Not a single one. Chase had snuck hints into the last video, the Septics' fans were on fire, he couldn't get and hold anyone's attention long enough for them to read his "theory." They were all too busy with their own ideas, or what the big theory blogs had to say. "They're not listenin' to a damn thing I say."

When he glanced over at the Host, the older Ego was calm, though his brows were scrunched slightly. "State them as theories, not facts."

"But they _are _facts!" He ran his hands through his hair and groaned. "We just need the fans to believe it!"

"They don't believe that we're real, Anti. Stating them the way you have been makes you look forceful, desperate, and unapproachable. Make _friends _with the fans and get them to see it as you do without forcing the matter."

The Host grabbed his screen and turned it toward the other. "Be aware of your wording and interact with them. Go to them first–don't wait for them to find you."

The editor took a slow breath as he looked at the screen. The Host's "theories" were snatched up as plausible by quite a handful of fans. How did he do it? "Why can't we just…tell 'em? It'd be easy! I'm already runnin' the channel!"

Host sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "We can't put them in danger. You know that. Offering them cryptic facts in the form of theories is already toeing a dangerous line." When Anti grumbled and turned back to his computer, the Host chuckled, "My friend, you'll figure it out. It takes patience."

Anti rolled his eyes and smirked. "Fine. I'll try this 'patience' you speak of."


	54. Control Your Anger, Schneep & Marvin

**scribblesandstrations asked: **_For the emotional prompts, a certain one caught my eye! "Control your anger or you'll have me to worry about." How about Henrik and whichever other Ego is starting to get on his nerves? :0 He sounds like the type to say that, I think._

**Warnings: **_Arguing  
_Characters: Dr. Schneeplestein, Marvin the Magnificent  
_Main Verse_

* * *

On, and on, and on, like a jackhammer at his skull, Marvin ranted.

Henrik had lost track of how long he'd gone on for. He'd tried massaging away the ache. He'd tried hinting ever-so gently that he didn't have the time to listen right then.

He'd lost track of what the magician was even upset over. One moment he was growling Anti's name, the next he was pulling at his hair as he complained about some prank Chase had pulled for the umpteenth time.

"And then—!"

The words trailed off in Henrik's mind. He was too busy grimacing at the pounding of his head, the ache of his back, too much work for him to even keep track of anymore, to keep up with what Marvin was saying.

Pushing himself away from his desk, he wheeled toward the cabinets. If he could just get rid of this _headache_.

Something had been the final straw for Marvin, and he suspected it had been something small that sent him on his rant.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Henrik felt his eye twitch.

Maybe it was the tone of voice. The _way _he said it.

Maybe it was the way he was just standing there, right in front of Henrik's desk, tapping his cane with…was it impatience? Annoyance? No. Anger. Marvin was pissed. With the glitch, with Chase, hell he'd even mentioned that he and Central had been arguing that morning, hadn't he? He was _angry_, and he wanted it known, he wanted _someone _he could rant to.

Unfortunately, he'd picked that someone as the one person in an equally as sour mood.

Whatever it was, Marvin had become _Henrik's _final straw.

The doctor spun around so fast he could feel it in his aching head and one of his wheels slipped over the tiles to slam into the cabinets behind him. His knuckles were left white with how tightly he gripped the wheels.

"Control your anger or you'll have _me _to worry about!" Henrik barked.

Marvin startled at the tone, falling quiet; his cane slipped from his hands but he made no move to grab for it.

In the silence to fall over the room, the cane hitting the tiles seemed so loud, echoing, as both men remained rigid.

Then, Marvin's jaw locked. "Ugh! You're being so…so _insensitive!" _he growled. "I—"

"_Me?!_" Henrik actually laughed at that. It was a harsh sound that carried no humor—more of a bark than anything. "I have been hinting for the last half hour I cannot deal with this right now!"

Marvin threw up his hands. "Maybe instead of hinting, _use your words?_ I can't exactly _see_ your expressions, which kinda makes it a little hard to tell sometimes!" His eyes narrowed then. "You're not even supposed to be working, but that's _exactly _what you're doing, isn't it? You're supposed to be taking time off!"

Henrik waved him off and turned back toward the cabinets. Behind him, he could hear Marvin snatch up his cane, then the clicking of his boots as he stormed out of the lab.


	55. Come Back Here, Bing, Oliver, & Edward

**scribblesandstrations asked: **_"Come back here right now!", with an Iplier of your choosing? You dont write a whole lot of Ipliers and I wanted to go for something a bit different? :0 You can mix Iplier and Egos, or purely Ipliers!_

**Warnings: **_None  
_Characters: Bingiplier, Google Oliver, Dr. Iplier  
_Main Verse_

* * *

Hearing the glass shatter, scatter in all directions on the floor, had made Bing grimace. He dared a peek at his partner-in-crime and Oliver was combing his fingers through too-long hair as he pursed his lips.

"Doc's gonna kill us."

The Upgrade only nodded.

"Think we can just, like. Sneak out?"

Oliver snorted at that. "If Docdoesn't catch us, Inc will be sure to tell him who did it anyway."

The light flickered and room creaked around them as the home agreed. Of course Incorporated would tattle on them.

"Right…"

Shards of glass on the floor, some sort of liquid spilled everywhere. Was it peeling the paint off the desk?

They were so dead.

Both androids turned to dart for the clinic door. Bing yelped when he ran into Edward right as he turned out of the room, sending the doctor to the floor. He looked like he was already in a bad mood, and why the hell did he have a black eye?

One look at Oliver, and Bing threw his chin up to point down the hallway. "Ahh… Sorry, Doc. Just needed to grab somethin'! We're leavin' now!"

They both bolted while Edward was left grumbling as he pulled himself back to his feet and went into his clinic–

"Bingiplier and Google Oliver!"

Just as the shout reached them, they realized it was a dead end. Incorporated had shifted to make it oh-so easy for the doctor to corner them. And to corner them with the use of their _full names_, no less. Uh-oh…

They both turned–there he was, right outside the clinic, hands on his hips, foot tapping. Bing didn't think it was possible for his scowl to get any worse, but it definitely did when neither of them moved.

"Come back here right now!"


	56. Welcome to the Team, The Septics

**scribblesandstrations asked:** _Oooo! Okay, I wanted to give a nice one and "Welcome to the team, mate" caught my eye! Can you guess with who? Our best boy JJ being welcomed into the team after he was formed? :0_

**Warnings: **_None  
_Characters: Jameson Jackson, Jackieboy Man, Chase Brody, Marvin the Magnificent  
_Main Verse_

_(( I've been meaning to rewrite Jamie's intro!  
Also a side note: my (Main) JJ could speak originally. he still /technically/ can, but his tongue was cut out ))_

* * *

Surprise? Shock? Confusion?

He wasn't really sure how to describe how he felt when he was blinking, brows furrowed at the door that was suddenly in front of him. No name, not yet, but soon.

It was a strange sensation. First, nothing–then thoughts started flowing. Then feeling, as a body formed for the thoughts to belong to. Then…

He was here. In a room–a kitchen?–with a closed door, a table behind him with a carved pumpkin. His hand hurt. When he glanced down at it, it was bandaged and still bleeding lightly. He'd carved a pumpkin (what did that mean, he didn't understand it yet), his mind told him, and accidentally cut himself in the process.

Ego. Dapper. Halloween. Possession.

He didn't understand what all of it meant yet, but the words kept running circles in his head, slowly forming memories of a video–video?–that would post the next day.

Tilting his head, he raised a fist to knock (it felt right. he wasn't sure why), but startled as the door swung open on its own. The building creaked, its lights flickered, and he heard voices. Three of them. The voices stopped when one of the owners pointed.

"Dude!" The man–something in his mind told him "Ego"–was surprised, then grinning. "The video doesn't go out 'til tomorrow, all they got was the pic! They really latched onto ya, didn't they?"

They?

When he took a nervous step back, there was a wall behind him. It had been a door a moment ago! Where had that kitchen gone?

"Hey, it's okay." The one in the red hood and a mask–a superhero–stepped forward, nudging the more excitable one back. "Chase, calm down. You don't have a name yet, do ya?"

A shake of the head.

The one in a suit and cat mask waved his hand, gesturing at something hidden behind him. "The fans keep callin' him Dapper. Could use that until he's got one?"

Dapper, there it was again.

"What do you think?" The hero; his voice and smile were kind, but his eyes looked tired.

"…Dapper will do, good sir." A small voice, quiet. He'd startled himself with it.

Chase laughed. "A quiet Septic, huh? That's a new one!"

Septic? Septic. It felt right.

The one in the suit snorted. "It was _your _idea to do the silent movie approach for him."

"It's still weird."

He–"Dapper," now–glanced for the hero, tipped his head. He felt like he should be afraid, or at least cautious–these were strangers, after all–but something in his mind told him "safety" and not to fear them. They all looked tired, but also relieved and smiling.

"If I may ask? Who are all of you?"

"Oh! Uh, I'm Jackie, and that's Marvin, and Chase."

"Good to have you," Marvin said.

Chase did something with his fingers–guns?–and grinned. "Welcome to the team, man! I know it's confusin' right now, but we'll show ya around and tell ya everything. You'll figure it out."


	57. We're a Team, Marvin & Jackieboy

**anonymous asked: **_Hi! saw those request prompts, and if you're able, how does jackie/marvin with ""We're a team. That's what teammates do. We have each other backs"" and/or "A Spell gone totally wrong"? that good hurt/comfort hit. Thank you, and good luck with your annotating!_

**Warnings: **_Character Injury, Burns  
_Characters: Marvin the Magnificent, Jackieboy Man  
_Superhero AU_

* * *

He hadn't been paying attention. Not like he should have been. He was just so…_angry_. He wanted the Glitch dead. He wanted the Glitch dead _so bad_–

Magnificent choked on a groan as he rolled onto his back. The ball of energy had exploded in his hand to knock the wind out of him. He felt the burns littering his arms, could _smell _how his cape and vest and jumpsuit smoldered, could only be grateful that his mask covered most of his face. Even his hair had been singed.

How would he explain _this _to his father? Or anyone, for that matter?

What had he even done wrong?

Footsteps, rushing toward him. He could only bare his teeth and throw a hand out in some random direction he thought their opponent had gone.

"Get the Glitch!" he growled through gritted teeth.

"Hell no!" Jackieboy knelt at his side to touch ginger fingers to the burns in his arms. "You're hurt!"

His eyes opened to slits, sightless stare tracking the other hero's movements. "You could have had him!"

"Yeah, and leave you up here for 'im to circle back around for?" He heard, felt, his sleeve tear as the other hero ripped it open some, then did the same for the other. "I don't think any of 'em are third degree, at least…"

_"Exactly!"_

"Mags."

He grimaced at the tone of voice. "You just said yourself: They're not bad! Why didn't you just go after the damn Glitch?"

The stronger hero helped him sit up. "'Cause we're a team now, and that's what teammates do." Strong arms, helping to pull him to his feet; the shorter man flying ever so slightly above the roof so Magnificent could lean against him without stooping. "We have each others' backs. You would'a done the same, no matter how pissy I got to go after 'im instead of helpin' me. Am I wrong?"

He could only hunch his shoulders. "I can handle myself."

"So can I. Doesn't change the fact we're a team."

Magnificent winced as he was picked up–Jackieboy would fly them back to the Hideaway instead of relying on the magician's portals to get them there.

"Look, I know you did the whole loner thing a long time, but things work helluva lot better if we're not alone." Jackieboy laughed, then. "So…sorry Mags, but you're kinda stuck with me."

He wanted to be annoyed. He really did.

All Magnificent could offer was a snort instead.

What a pain in the ass.

…He liked the new hero already. Damn his endearing nature.


	58. Sidekick, Jackieboy & Chase

**anonymous asked:**_"I'll be your sidekick if you ever need me to be" with Chase and JBM?_

**Warnings: **_Swearing, Character Injury (Minor)  
_Characters: Chase Brody, Jackieboy Man  
_Main Verse_

* * *

He was tired. He was sore. Bruised, bloody, _maybe _had a tiny limp, but hey. Just an average day for the hero.

He still found it in himself to grin when the door opened on its own and he was walking into the living room to see Chase on the couch. The younger Septic only offered an arched brow.

"Dude. You're a mess."

That brought a chuckle out of him and he shrugged. "Just need a shower and clean clothes."

"You're not gonna go to Schneep?"

"Nah. Most of the blood's from the other guy. …And my nose."

A snort. "You didn't break it again, did you?"

"No! Well… I don't think so?"

"Come sit down, dumbass." Chase rolled his eyes good-naturedly and patted the cushion next to him. "I'll get you some tea or somethin'. And a wet rag."

It didn't take long for a rag to be tossed at him. Hitting him right in the middle of his chest, it left a funny dark spot on his hoodie. "Ass."

Chase just offered a cheeky grin as he waited for the kettle to boil.

Jackie wiped down his hands, then his neck, started on his face only to wince when he tried to pass it over the bridge of his nose after pushing his mask up on his forehead. Okay. Maybe his nose was broken again. Dammit.

The kettle started whistling and Chase jogged back into the kitchen; he had a clean sweater draped over his shoulder as he moved the kettle off the burner. With his mask off his face and glasses still in his room, Jackie completely missed it as the sweater was thrown at him. By the time he realized, it was already draped over his face and Chase was laughing.

"Oops?"

"Yeah, 'oops,'" Jackie snorted, tugging his hoodie off to change into the sweater. He took the tea offered out to him, letting it warm his aching hands as he sank back into the couch.

The sofa shifted as Chase flopped down next to him, spilling a few drops of his own tea on himself and glaring at the offending dark spots on his sweatpants. He seemed to forget about it pretty quickly, instead asking, "Y'know you can call for help if ya ever need it, right?"

"Hm?" He raised his brows.

Chase nudged his shoulder. "You're not the only one with powers." He smiled, then. "C'mon, man. You ever need a sidekick, I'd be there in a heartbeat."

Jackie nudged him back. "And put you in danger? No way!"

"Which one of us is legit bulletproof?"

"…Touché."

"Hey, I know you'll call Marv or Silver if you're in a bind, but just sayin'. Whether it's savin' the day or helping you out here–" he raised his mug of tea, "–I'm here for ya, man."


	59. Stabilize Them, The Googles

**anonymous asked:**_I havent really interacted with your blog besides reblog- but! Screw them, you're awesome, and you're writing is awesome- also for the angst prompts what about all the Google colours, with their android-ness and the emotional connection theres some good angst there_

**Warnings: **_Major Character Injury  
_Characters: Googles Blue, Green, Red & Oliver  
_Main Verse_

_(( for clarity: I got a hate anon (my first, eyyy) who literally only succeeded in annoying me, so I decided to take angst/whump requests so I could take it out on some characters :D ))_

* * *

Weather Jim had gone bolting to the Googles' room to warn them about he storm he could See coming. He'd told Bing (as well as the King so he'd actually get inside), now he just needed to warn the Googles. Only, he was too late to get there.

A crack of thunder that had Blue and Green jumping, a too-bright flash outside the window, the power going out with sparks flying from a few light bulbs and outlets throughout the building. Incorporated creaked with alarm as its aura pulsed, a brief pink tint filling its rooms and halls, and the power came back on as the tint dissipated–but Oliver and Red had already seized on their chargers as electricity traveled over their frames.

There was a horrible screeching sound from Red's chest, both of their eyes and emblems flickering.

Blue Felt their distress, their fear, their pain, as he lunged away from his computer.

When he paused, hands hovering, he couldn't help the frustrated growl to rumble in his chest. He couldn't touch either of them without potentially electrocuting himself–

Green shoved past him. The youngest Upgrade's ability protected him, the electricity racing up his arms but never quite touching synthetic flesh, before the streaks would dissipate as they were absorbed by his aura.

Red was the first he carefully disconnected.

"Give it a few moments, then move him. Don't touch Oliver."

It was rare that Blue wasn't the one giving orders, but, while he could never admit it, he was grateful for it. He could still Feel the waves of distress from the other two; they were still conscious, but with frames completely locked down.

"Blue?" Green was glancing over his glasses as he positioned Oliver to lift him. "Deep breaths."

"We have no need for air."

"No, but you are worried. I can see it."

Silence, as Blue grabbed for a toolbox and lifted Red's shirt to get access to his chest. Make sure his core is stable–Green would be doing the same with Oliver.

"I do not worry."

"Unless it comes to the three of us."

Glancing down revealed the grimace frozen to Red's face and the static and errors flashing through his eyes. Oliver looked no better. "I do not worry," he said again. Trying to convince Green? Or himself? Forget it. Focus.

Steady hands to pull open Red's chest. Steady hands to check the components lying within, to press lightly against the thin but powerful shell protecting his core as he made sure nothing was out of place. The screeching was from broken wires catching where they shouldn't have been. Easy fix… Easy fix.

_Fear. _It was from Green, now. It was so sudden it nearly startled him.

"Blue!"

A pop, a spark, a tiny fire. Something in Oliver's chest–

"Help Red," Blue demanded through gritted teeth, grabbing the Upgrade by the arm and pulling him to trade places. He patted at the fire to put it out with nothing but his hand, ignoring as it started melting the synthetic skin on his fingers. Stabilize Oliver, his mind droned. Stabilize Google Oliver.

Singed wires, sparking, some broken apart completely from the heat.

With his frame locked, Oliver could only chirp and trill–the sounds were quiet and broken. _"Hurts,"_ the sounds said. _"Hurts…"_

They were both in pain. Blue could Feel it in their distress.

Oliver took comfort in…in physical contact, yes. Touching a hand to the side of the Upgrade's face, Blue trilled softly, deep in his chest, with promises to get him fixed soon, that he'd be just fine. Oliver's chirps quieted–both from understanding, and his frame trying to force itself into sleep mode.

Stabilize them, his mind repeated. Stabilize Red and Oliver.


	60. Kidnapping, Chase & Anti

**therealtiger77 asked: **_Anti kidnapping Chase, please? Also your writing is awesome! :)_

**Warnings:** _Kidnapping, Guns, Zalgo_  
_Characters: Chase Brody, Antisepticeye_  
_Main Verse_

* * *

Something had felt…off, all day. Chase hadn't been able to put his finger on it.

His film crew had noticed he was distracted. Had asked once, twice, three times, four, what was wrong.

He ended filming early that day. If he couldn't stay focused, he could easily injure himself or one of his crew during a stunt. He wouldn't risk it.

That had left him alone in the studio. Through the window of his office, he could see Central looming over the city at the top of its hill. Watching. Always watching–

A chill passed crawled down his spine as those words crossed his mind.

The chill changed to a prickle as static danced over his skin. Chase swallowed and slowly lowered his now-malfunctioning phone. On the other side of his desk, the glitch's narrowed eyes stared back at him. His mouth was pulled into a grin as sharp as his teeth.

Chase was bolting from his office before he'd even realized he was out of his chair. The lights were off, Anti's laughter echoed through the halls, and the younger Septic could already feel his heart in his throat.

No. No, no, no, no–

Like a broken record, his mind repeated the word over and over again. Don't get caught, don't slow down, _don't let him catch you! _

When his foot slipped trying to round a corner–the door was _right there!_–the curses spitting in his mind never had a chance to leave his mouth as he careened into the wall. He was left backing against it, holding his hands out in front of him as his gun materialized in them. His aura crept forward in its attempt to shroud him in the gunsmoke, even if he knew it was futile.

Anti knew he was there.

They were looking right at each other.

Chase swallowed, raising his gun defensively even as the glitch's aura pressed against his with every step closer he took.

Finger squeezing the trigger, Chase's breath hitched as the bullet passed harmlessly through Anti when he took on his static form.

"I h͘a̧ve ͠such a̵ n̨ice r͘oom̡ ͟for y̧ou~" He tilted his head impossibly far to one side; Chase could only grimace. "H̡ow ͘soo͞n d͘o ͞y͘ou ͞think yo͝ur _de̡ar_ ͘her͞o ̢can͟ find̀ you͏?"

He didn't even have time to blink before hands were around his throat to slam his head against the wall.

Then, nothing.


	61. Left Behind, Bing & Angus

**violet-majesty asked: **_For prompts, how about "left behind" with one of the superheroes from the Superhero AU? You can have it be about whoever you want/fits best. (Also, sorry that you had to get that rude ask from an anon. Even though it seems like you already laughed it off, I just wanted to say just in case that you shouldn't take it to heart.)_

**Warnings: **_Mild Violence, Knives  
_Characters: Bingiplier, Angus the Survival Hunter  
_Superhero AU_

* * *

He almost always stayed at the Hideaway, building and fixing gadgets and weapons and suits in his lab.

Now he was starting to remember _why_ he never left the base.

Bing wasn't fast or strong like the others. He didn't have superhuman powers like them, nor had he trained like Bro Average, who was just as…well, _average, _as him, but damn was that parkour impressive. He was a scientist–an _engineer_–not a fighter! Even so, it was his job as a hero to help wherever he was needed.

That…didn't make him regret his choice any less.

When Bloodhound swung his machete, Bing couldn't do much more than drop his weapon and raise his arms to protect his face. He heard the crunch–breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't _feel _it–the weapon embedding itself deep in his prosthetic arm.

A foot to the gut followed to immediately put him on the ground.

Left coughing and wheezing in an attempt to pull air back into his lungs, he couldn't find it in himself to struggle as Bloodhound dragged him into sitting up only to pin his machete under the hero's throat. His other hand slipped under Bing's mask to clamp tightly over his mouth.

"Be a mate an' keep real quiet…" the thick Australian accent hissed into his ear.

No amount of tugging could pull either hand away. Bing could only watch with a growing sense of despair as Magnificent opened a portal that the other two rushed through. The magician's sightless stare swept around while he listened for any other allies, and then he followed through.

Bing took a shuddery breath as the portal closed.

When Bloodhound shifted to glance at one of his companions, Bing grimaced as the blade nicked his neck.

"How much ya think we can ransom this one for?" There was a grin in his voice and the hand over his mouth felt like it would leave bruises on his jaw. Was he talking to the Toymaker? The Artist? Bing didn't dare turn his head.

Bloodhound chuckled, then. "Heh… Don't see you 'round much, mate. Should'a just stayed in your hidey-hole with your machines."


	62. Did you hiss at me? Marv, Jackie, Chase

**scribblesandstrations asked: **_Ooo! "Did you just hiss at me?" With Star Wars Marvin and anyone else? :0_

**Warnings: **_Swearing  
_Characters: Marvin the Magnificent, Jackieboy Man, Chase Brody  
_Star Wars AU_

* * *

Okay. Maybe Jackie was messing with something he shouldn't have been messing with. But in his defense, he'd always wanted to see an electrostaff up close.

…Well. Without being on the receiving side of one of the charged ends, at least.

It wasn't often that the Mandalorian left one of his weapons laying around, and Jackie just wanted to _look_. He wasn't hurting anything by doing so, right? Besides, Marvin had done the same with Jackie's old pilot helmet only to scoff at it and knock a fist against the side of his own in a "_this _is a helmet" sort of way before stalking off.

Running his hand over the weapon's shaft, he jumped when it sparked to life—literally. The ends were alive with purple electricity and Jackie barely managed to shift it before he could shock himself.

Chase's astromech beeped angrily when it startled the little guy, then it went zipping off toward the cockpit. Probably to tattle on him.

"Uh… Sorry?" He grimaced as he heard a crash shortly thereafter—probably Beeper running into something or someone on its way to complain to Chase.

The weapon being forcefully wrenched from his hands had him jumping again, and all he could offer to the glowering visor above him was a sheepish grin.

"In my defense, you left it out."

A sharp hiss left the Mandalorian as he turned the weapon off and slung it over his shoulder.

Jackie, with his mouth left hanging open as he processed the sound, could only furrow his brows. "…Did you just hiss at me?"

It hadn't been the annoyed hiss a Human (or Chiss) could make by exhaling through clenched teeth. It was a legitimate, lowkey _scary as hell_, hiss. The Chiss blinked dumbly up at the Mandalorian. The Mandalorian he'd _thought _was Human, but apparently not.

"You just hissed at me! I thought you were Human!"

Chase busted out laughing from the entrance to the storage room that had been seconding as Jackie and Jameson's "bedroom" (the repurposed junker was really lacking in the sleeping quarters department).

"Dude, do you not pay attention to stuff? Humans don't have furred fingers or _retractable claws_."

At that, Marvin flexed his fingers. The ends of his gloves had been cut off, messily so, and Jackie could see the razor-sharp claws clear as day when they caught the light. It was followed by a growl bubbling in the man's chest. "Don't touch my shit."

"Hey, I thought all Mandos were Human!" In Jackie's defense, he'd come from a planet beyond the Outer Rim. He'd never even _heard _of a Mandalorian until he'd made his way into the galaxy. How was he supposed to know besides what he'd heard from others?

He could almost imagine Marvin rolling his eyes as he mimed strangling the Chiss. "_Most _are Human. But it's a _culture. Not _a species. You dense—"

"Okay, there's not gonna be any fights on my ship." Chase nudged Marvin back a step—it was almost funny to see the far,_ far_ shorter Bothan as the one taking charge. "Beeper's already upset an' I don't think Slink'll be too happy if he has to come off his charger to separate you two. Or, even better, _none _of you are gonna be happy if I call Jameson instead."

They both grumbled under their breath in answer.

"That's the spirit!"


	63. Shut Up, Oliver & Red

**gangster-angster asked:** _I haven't read your star wars au, so I don't exactly know what'll be good- but 11 with Red and Oliver? I promise I'll request different characters soon  
_**11\. "Can you shut up for once in your life?"**_  
_

**Warnings: **_None. Just Red being mean :/  
_Characters: Google Oliver, Google Red  
_Star Wars AU_

_(( Also, a note on their species: The Googles are Arkanians in this. They look mostly human except for pure white hair and eyes and clawed fingers, of which they only have four on each hand ))_

* * *

Oliver liked to talk. He liked to smile, and laugh, and made his joy for things known, since the time he and his brothers were young.

Where the other three kept their hair neat and either pulled back or cut short, Oliver's hung at his shoulders, stuck up with static whenever he got shocked, got caught in things to leave him wincing.

He acted more Human than Arkanian, though it usually wasn't a bad thing. Getting the others to smile occasionally kept them in high spirits from within their secluded little lab.

_Usually._

Other times…

Red was in a sour mood. What a surprise, Oliver thought with a frown. Blu was grumpy, but at least he wasn't pissy all the time. Not like Red, who was scowling across the counter at Oliver.

Red's snow-white hair was chopped short–literally. It was a mess, looking like he'd hacked it off with a knife (which he honestly probably had since he couldn't do anything the easy way).

"All I said was that one of us could clean it up a little!" Oliver insisted, gesturing for his brother's hair. "That's it!"

No answer. Just that same scowl. Oliver pursed his lips when Red's jaw locked.

"I–"

The prosthetic hand on his shoulder felt like it would leave a bruise as it shoved him. "Can't you just shut up for once in your life?" Red growled.

Oliver flinched and resisted the urge to rub at the now-sore spot on his shoulder.

The bandages peeking out from under Red's sleeve caught his stare for only a moment before he dropped his eyes to the floor. One of his machines had injured him again today, hadn't it? That explained the foul temper…

Instead of testing Red's short fuse any further, Oliver scurried off to the other side of the lab.


End file.
